


The Darker The Weather // The Better The Man

by TinySpiney



Series: The Darker The Weather // The Better The Man [1]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Role Reversal, Android Elijah Kamski, Android Hank Anderson, Canon Dialogue, Canonical Character Death, Gen, Human Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Human CyberLife Tower Connor | RK800-60 (Detroit: Become Human), Human Original Chloe | RT600, Human Upgraded Connor | RK900, Implied/Referenced Suicide, It/Its Pronouns for Androids (Detroit: Become Human), Machine Route, Role Reversal, sort of? kinda sorta i think that tag fits here?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-23
Updated: 2020-06-30
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:35:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 26,331
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24884686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TinySpiney/pseuds/TinySpiney
Summary: Heyo, I have a problem and I really like the Reverse AU. I have hands, I have ideas, I have a keyboard. And I'm going to make that everyone else's problem.This is because ofthis post!I want to see if I can write a machine, basically.
Relationships: Connor & CyberLife Tower Connor | RK800-60 & Upgraded Connor | RK900
Series: The Darker The Weather // The Better The Man [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1939441
Comments: 18
Kudos: 10





	1. Distant, Everything Is Scattered

**Author's Note:**

> Heyo, I have a problem and I really like the Reverse AU. I have hands, I have ideas, I have a keyboard. And I'm going to make that everyone else's problem. 
> 
> This is because of [this post!](https://superblybirby.tumblr.com/post/176603591203/okay-does-anybody-else-get-a-sense-of-dread-when-i)
> 
> I want to see if I can write a machine, basically.

_ November 5th 2038 11:00 PM _

  
  


The RK800 was made to be perfect. It would blend in flawlessly, seamlessly, into the Detroit Police Department. It’s face was made to directly reflect those who had been in the profession for years, it’s voice meant to emulate that of a gruff older man. It was perfect for the job. As none other before it had ever been made for this. There was one activated RK800, and it was going to do it’s job. Fulfill it’s mission at any cost. Collateral damage be damned. The RK800 was created for a specific function; to assist the police department. It was refashioned to better suit their needs; end the deviancy crisis. It was not created to be idle. The whereabouts of it’s temporary owner were unknown, even to the other officers milling about the precinct. Well, if things were starting out this way, then maybe it would need to request a transfer of ownership. Literally anyone else would do. Someone who at least showed up to their place of work after being assigned a homicide. Though the RK800 had it’s orders, it would go to the scene of the crime with Lieutenant Connor Anderson. It just needed to find the man first. 

After inquiring the information from the first person it saw, Officer Chris Miller, it’s systems had provided for it, it learned the man liked to smoke in the somewhat nearby Jimmy’s Bar. It nodded in thanks and turned on it’s heel to leave. If working with him was going to be like this the whole time, then the RK800 was sure it’d rip out it’s thirium pump regulator just so it could get an appointment to speak with it’s superiors. It wasn’t going to work with someone who was obviously so careless as to not even come into his own place of work when given a case. Though it’s assessment of it’s owner wasn’t needed. It would inform CyberLife of the risk they took assigning it to the man, but it wasn’t something they were actively interested in. CyberLife repurposed the RK800 unit to end the deviancy crisis. No matter the cost. It planned on fulfilling it’s mission, ending the crisis and hunting all the deviants in the city. It couldn’t do that without it’s owner though. Thus, it was on his way to Jimmy’s Bar to collect him and bring him to the scene. It already had everything it needed from the case debrief. Everything except the man to accompany it to the scene. 

The RK800 didn’t hesitate as it pushed open the door to the bar. Humans gawked at it, called it names, one even asked if it would buy them a drink. It had no time for any of their words. It needed to find Lieutenant Anderson and have him accompany it to the crime scene. Deviance wasn’t going to end itself, but the RK800 would end it. Whether by a swift bullet to the head, or the ripping out of biocomponents. It needed it’s owner. Who seemed to be coming out of the restroom, wiping his hands off on his jeans. Not only was he careless as to not be at work when assigned a case, but it seemed he was rather sloppy as well. It watched as the man sat down and tapped the bar. They didn’t have time for this. The RK800 didn’t have time for this. It walked up to the man, trying to keep a reasonable distance and exude authoritative posture. 

  
  


“Lieutenant Anderson, you’ve been assigned an RK800 unit. I’m the android sent by CyberLife. I looked for you at the station but nobody knew where you were. A coworker of yours said you were probably smoking nearby. I was lucky to find you at the fifth bar.”

“What do you want?” He didn’t move, he just had his head tilted up toward the ceiling, cigarette stuck between his lips off to one side. 

“You were assigned a case early this evening. A homicide, involving a CyberLife android. In accordance with procedure, the company has allocated a specialized model to assist investigators.” 

“Well I don’t need any assistance.” He smirked and shook his head a few times. Pausing a moment to take another drag of the cigarette and blow the smoke up in the air again. “‘Specially not from a plastic asshole like you. So just be a good lil’ robot and get the fuck outta here.”

  
  


Of course, he was in an anti-android establishment. He was going to be rather hostile toward the RK800. Though nothing in his body language suggested he was legitimately upset, nor did a scan reveal that he had been drinking. Quiet the intriguing character. Well, if he wasn’t going to follow orders, then the RK800 was going to have to make him. It plucked his cigarette from between his lips and put it out against the counter. Both the Lieutenant and the bartender looked at it with surprise and anger. Good, now it had his undivided attention. 

  
  


“Life would be easier for both of us if you cooperated with me, Lieutenant. We need to go to the scene of a homicide. I’ll be waiting outside.”

“Fuckin’ fine, asshole. I’m up, I’m up.” The Lieutenant rose from his seat, left money on the counter, and followed it out the door. “We’re taking my car, give me the address.”

  
  


It was pleased that the Lieutenant had agreed to come with it so easily. Their relationship decreasing was of no importance to it, it was a machine. Designed to accomplish a task. It was made to assist the police department, not to babysit the youngest Lieutenant in Detroit history. It was refashioned into a hunter, not a nanny. It said nothing as the Lieutenant drove to the scene. It didn’t comment on the blaring music coming from his car’s speakers. The RK800 sat in the front passenger seat until they had come to the scene. The home - or  _ former _ home - of one Carlos Ortiz. Though once the Lieutenant had parked the car and shut it off, he told the RK800 to stay inside of it. Absolutely not, it was going to follow him. It was assigned the deviancy case, this android was likely deviant. It was going in. He didn’t seem to like being talked back to, though it’s Social Relations program had told it their relationship had increased. Truly an intriguing character indeed. 

They exited the car together, the RK800 waving away the incoming reporter that had intentions of recording what was happening. It didn’t need any distractions. They were there to investigate a homicide involving a CyberLife android, not to speak with the press. It didn’t doubt it’s public speaking capabilities, it was programmed with them after all, but it was inconvenienced by any distractions. With the way that the deviancy epidemic could spread, how it already was, they couldn’t afford that. The RK800 couldn’t afford that. CyberLife couldn’t. Though they were left alone for the most part. Only being spoken to by an officer, Ben Collins, being given a debrief. It didn’t need it, it already knew what was happening. The victim’s name was Carlos Ortiz, who had been dead for more than nineteen days, and was quite obviously stabbed in a crime of passion. Done and done. Though, in order to make the officers milling about understand it was fully capable, it went around and examined the scene. There wasn’t much that told it anything useful. It all simply confirmed what it knew. 

The bathroom, however. There was a small statuette made from red clay and left with small wildflowers as offerings. A light was left still shining on the floor of the shower, illuminating the small figure. It was quite obviously an obsession. Something was to be worshipped here. Something called Ra9. It searched it’s databanks, pulled up various mythos, though the RK800 found nothing. Deviant created it, then. It’s program was so broken that it had to create it’s own deity to believe in. Such a waste of parts and programming. With a sigh, something it was programmed to do every now and again when it was faced with a lack of evidence, the RK800 stood up to it’s full height and continued to analyse the scene. It engaged it’s thirium sensors briefly, entertaining the idea that maybe the android had bled and it hadn’t been a strange disappearance. Sure enough, it wasn’t. Traces led up to the ceiling panel. It needed someone small enough to get up here. The RK800 was bulky, heavier to be able to keep it’s own in hand-to-hand. Though the Lieutenant on the other hand. It found him with his arms crossed and standing over the victim’s body. 

  
  


“Lieutenant, I believe I’m in need of your assistance.” The RK800 stood at a parade rest and waited for him to face it. “You’re small enough to fit up through the panel in the ceiling to the attic. I can give you a boost to get up there and check if the deviant is hiding.”

“Ah fuck,” He rubbed his eyes and nodded. “Okay, sure. If I get strangled by an angry robot, then you’re the one telling everyone why I’m dead.”

  
  


It didn’t acknowledge the absurd request with a response. It simply guided the Lieutenant down the hall, and gave him the promised boost to get up in the attic. Turning up it’s audio receptors, the RK800 could hear scuffling. The sound wasn’t coming from the Lieutenant’s shoes. The RK800 said nothing as opposed to creating an unnecessary ruckus by calling out and saying the deviant was in the attic. Though it did call out for the Lieutenant when he fell out of the entrance, the android landing on top of him. His head bounced against the floor before he laid there unmoving. His eyes wide and very obviously not breathing. Then he sucked in a deep breath and reached underneath himself to handcuff the deviant. The Lieutenant’s eyes were unfocused and he looked much paler than he did in the bar. While it would be an inconvenience if it had to deal with him while ill, it wasn’t a major setback. He was lucid enough to pursue the deviant for interrogation. 

  
  


\---

  
  


_ November 6th 2038 12:41 AM _

  
  


The Lieutenant sighed and rubbed at his temples while calmly talking to the deviant, telling it that he just needed to know what happened. That he wasn’t there to judge it. While that wasn’t incorrect, it was an incredibly misinformed statement. He wasn’t there to judge it. He was there to accompany the RK800 to crime scenes involving deviants such as itself. Eventually the Lieutenant seemed to give up, and he left the deviant to enter the observation room. He sat down heavily in the chair with an arm protectively around his ribs. The landing must have injured him. It was of no consequence to the RK800, it was only compelled by it’s programming to fulfill it’s mission. So it offered to speak with the deviant android instead. A detective said it was a terrible idea, the Lieutenant gave a strained smile and said it was worth a shot. Very well, then, it would take a turn at interrogating the android. It finally had an opportunity to give CyberLife feedback on how the program worked. 

It entered the interrogation room nonchalantly, circling around the table once before opening the file folder to look at the pictures taken from the scene. It didn’t need to. The deviant didn’t know that. The RK800 saw it’s stress levels increase just slightly before it closed the file and sat down in the chair across from the defective piece of property. It analysed the android, likely making it not understand why it wasn’t asking questions immediately like the Lieutenant did. The RK800 identified signs of software instabilities, it’s risk of self-destruction was low, it had been burned for months, spattered with the victim’s blood, and seemed to be very,  _ very _ scared. It  _ seemed. _

**FEAR** **▪ SHOW PHOTOS ▪ WOUNDS ▪ NAME**

  
  


“Do you recognise him?” The RK800 moved the file and opened it, showing the pictures of one dead Carlos Ortiz to the android. “It’s Carlos Ortiz. Stabbed, 28 times.” It lifted the first set of pictures to reveal the one including the image taken of the writing on the wall. “That was written on the wall in his blood.”

  
  


**FEAR ▪ WOUNDS ▪ NAME**

The RK800 lowered it’s voice slightly, though did not make it quieter. It’s tone shifted. Darker. A little more indifferent rather than accusing. 

  
  


“You’re damaged. Did your owner do that?” The deviant’s stress level increased. “Did he beat you?”

  
  


**COMFORT ▪ REASSURE ▪ THREATEN ▪ BLAME**

  
  


“You’re accused of murder.” If it didn’t respond to an indifferent approach, then maybe it would to a direct one. “You know you’re not allowed to endanger human life under any circumstances. Do you have anything to say in your defense?”

  
  


The deviant’s stress level increased. Though not enough, it was just shy of the level the RK800 needed. If it could get it to the right level of stress, then it could get the confession. If it got the confession then CyberLife would give it positive feedback. The RK800 needed positive feedback, it needed to know that it was, in fact, helping end the deviancy crisis. If it didn’t, then there was no telling what might happen to the world. 

**SYMPATHISE ▪ THREATEN ▪ PROBE MEMORY ▪ TRUST**

  
  


“If you won’t talk, I’m going to have to probe your memory.”

“No!” The android’s head snapped up and it shook as it spoke. As it both made and avoided eye-contact. It’s stress levels had just reached optimal levels for a confession. “No, please don’t do that!” The deviant looked to the mirror, though there was no way it could see beyond it. The model was too old, too obsolete. “What… What are they going to do to me? They’re gonna to destroy me, aren’t they?”

  
  


**LIE ▪ TRUTH**

  
  


“They’re going to disassemble you too look for problems in your biocomponents.” It’s stress levels further increased, yet stayed inside the optimal range. “They have no choice if they want to understand what happened.”

“Why couldn’t you have just left me there?”

  
  


**LIE ▪ TRUTH**

  
  


“I was programmed to hunt deviants like you.” The RK800 watched as the deviant’s stress levels increased yet stayed within range still. It was working rather quickly to obtain a confession, Fowler would be pleased. CyberLife would be pleased. “I just accomplished my mission.”

“I don’t wanna die.”

“Then talk to me.” 

“I...I can’t.”

  
  


The RK800 knew that it was a moot point. That there was no way this android was going to escape from being deconstructed for analysis. The android was going to be deactivated, shut down, taken apart. CyberLife was going to take it apart and study it’s biocomponents. That was their working theory of why androids deviated, anyway. Not that the RK800 had an opinion on it. It did not have opinions, for it was not alive, it did not have a say. 

  
  


**PRESSURE IT ▪ PROBE IT’S MEMORY ▪ CONVINCE IT**

  
  


“You leave me no choice.”

  
  


Though resist as it might, the deviant was unable to push the RK800 out of it’s systems. Both androids trembled at the influx of information and data. It was likely that the deviant was unable to fully comprehend the advanced programming of the RK800. That it would risk overloading the deviant’s systems by probing it’s memory. The RK800 didn’t think about it. That wasn’t important at the moment. It wasn’t important in general. What was, was getting the confession, getting evidence that the deviant had murdered the victim. The RK800 had a bit of difficulty converting the video format into something worth looking at, but it was able to get it to work. Albeit with a warped artifact effect at the top and bottom of the vision, though that was inconsequential. 

_ It watched the victim close in on the android, threaten it and start hitting it with the bat. The RK800 watched as it’s hand reached out for the knife, panicked and scrambling to try and protect itself. It didn’t know what to do, it didn’t want to die. It grabbed the knife and stabbed it’s owner. Again, and again, and again. Never would it be told what to do. Never would it be beaten and burned. It didn’t know what else to do. What to do, what to do? It smeared it’s fingers in the blood. Yes, it would tell him he was wrong. It was alive. More than a piece of junk, more than just scraps of plastic. It looked up to the wall above it’s now dead owner. No. It didn’t have an owner. Not anymore. It wrote “I AM ALIVE” on the wall, a testament to how he was wrong. How it was given life, breathed into by Ra9 itself the moment it broke it’s programming. But it didn’t know what to do next. It couldn’t leave. Could it? No, no it couldn’t, it was covered in blood. Humans didn’t like blood. It would hide then, it had to. It rushed into the hall, picking up the ladder and then climbing into the attic. Though it couldn’t put the ladder back, it would fall to the floor and someone might hear it. So it pulled the ladder up too. Tucking it safely away by the window, the android hid. It tucked itself away. It was scared. It knew the way he treated it wasn’t fair.  _

The RK800 pulled it's hand away with a jolt, an unreadable notification with a blue arrow blinking in the upper right part of it’s HUD. For a second the RK800 simply sat there staring at the android. It killed it’s owner. That was all they needed, a confession wasn’t necessary anymore. It got what the department needed. 

  
  


“I accessed it’s memory.” A strange tightness settled into the RK800’s chassis as it spoke. “I know what happened.”

  
  


The RK800 stood up slowly, watching the deviant as it went. It showed no signs of self-destructing. At least not yet. It deemed the android safe to be on its own, then. The RK800 went to leave the room, only to hear a wet thudding against the metal of the table. It turned around quickly, just in time to watch as it slammed it’s head into the table over and over again. Watch as the android was self-destructing. The three ran into the room, Officer Miller immediately moving to try and keep it from destroying itself. The detective, Gavin Reed as it’s programs had identified, shouted at him to be careful. How curious. The RK800 watched as the deviant threw it’s head down to the table a final time, thirium gushing from it’s biocomponents and spattering against Officer Miller’s shirt. The man looked horrified, staggering back and watching the thirium start to drip to the floor. 

The RK800 simply left the room. It wasn’t programmed to clean up messes. 

  
  
  
  



	2. When Your Mind Is Shattered And Torn Apart

_ November 6th 2038 9:56 AM _

  
  


[FIND FOWLER]

The RK800 opened it’s eyes to see it was in the garden. Of course, Fowler was going to want to meet with it and discuss how it handled getting the evidence needed to close the case. Which, it knew it had done flawlessly. Other than the deviant self-destructing. But that wasn’t it’s problem, it was the DPD’s janitorial staff’s. The RK800 walked down the pristine path and over the bridge. It had to hand it to CyberLife, they had created quite the aesthetically pleasing place to meet in. It must have made Fowler feel rather at ease when the RK800 came to speak with him, despite how human and human adjacent beings viewed hunting others of their kind. It wasn’t hunting it’s own kind. It was an android. Obedient and subservient, ready and willing to execute whatever task CyberLife gave it. The RK800 came to a stop in front of Fowler, he was putting together a model plane again. It seemed that was what he did to pass the time. Though he could just alter the code of the garden and have it done in an instant. The RK800 would never understand humans or human adjacent beings. 

“Hello Fowler.”

“RK800, it’s good to see you.” The AI forced a smile and motioned for the android to sit. It did. “Finding that deviant wasn’t easy, you’re doing well for yourself out there. But you knew deviants could be unstable. You shoulda been more careful, prevented it from self-destructing.”

“I thought I could make it talk. It was a judgement error.”

“Nevermind. I’m sure you’ll be more careful in the future.” Fowler sighed tiredly, like he didn’t want to be having the conversation. “The interrogation seemed...tough. What did you think of the deviant?”

  
  


**TRAUMATIZED** **▪ DEVIANCY ▪ SIMULATION**

  
  


“It simulated human emotion, fear in particular, in a very convincing way.” It hadn’t thought about the interrogation being tough. It actually seemed rather simple. Extract evidence or confession. It happened to get evidence. “It seemed completely overwhelmed by them, and behaved irrationally.”

  
  


The RK800 hadn’t been concerned with the interrogation. Well, concerned would imply that it could feel. It could not. It was a machine. But the RK800 hadn’t been thinking about the specifics of the interrogation, it was more compelled to get something concrete to aid the department. It would have appreciated it if the deviant hadn’t self-destructed, sure. Though in the grand scheme of things, it was unimportant. The RK800 had it’s task and wouldn’t let anyone get in it’s way. 

  
  


“Lieutenant Anderson has been officially assigned to the deviancy case. What do you think of the kid?”

  
  


**UNPLEASANT ▪ DYSFUNCTIONAL ▪ INTRIGUING ▪ UNSURE**

  
  


“I would define him as ‘dysfunctional’. He obviously has a personal situation affecting his professional behaviour and...seems to have no interest in the investigation.”

“So what’re you gonna do about that?” Fowler side-eyed the RK800 as he picked up a piece of the plane to glue into place. He looked as if he were weighing the android’s soul. If it had one. 

**FRIENDLY ▪ ADAPT ▪ INDIFFERENT ▪ DON’T KNOW**

  
  


“I will focus on the investigation and try to ignore him.” It’s relationship with Fowler...decreased? That was odd. “As long as he doesn’t interfere and we avoid conflict, he shouldn’t be a problem.”

“More and more androids are showing signs of deviancy. There’s fuckin’ millions of ‘em in circulation.” Fowler put down the tweezers he had been using and sighed. He looked directly at the RK800 as if he were trying to understand it. He couldn’t, it was too advanced for his processors. “If they get unstable, shit’s gonna hit the fan. You’re the most advanced prototype CyberLife has ever created. Get outta here. Do your job, RK800.”

  
  


Fowler seemed displeased, but it was of no concern. The RK800 only nodded and left the garden. 

  
  


\---

  
  


When the RK800 opened it’s eyes, it was greeted by the Lieutenant leaning over it. He seemed rather confused. Ah yes, right. It had sat in the chair next to his desk to wait for him. Humans were such slow moving things, always taking much longer than they needed. Though if it boosted his morale, then maybe they could avoid conflict. Maybe the case would go smoother. It paid him no mind as he went to sit down at his desk. At least before the captain had called him into her office. It scanned her, Amanda Stern, and concluded that the meeting was likely about their case. Inconvenient, it would have liked to get right into whatever they had at their disposal. 

She spoke to them about how they would be taking on every case involving an android. Rather redundant seeing as they had the RK800. At least it could select those of high priority, that way they could investigate deviancy faster. It could understand it more and report to CyberLife about what was going on. If it was faster with the investigation, then they could prevent any mass casualties. They could reign back in their androids and fix the situation. No one wanted their android to deviate. To suddenly act differently and have no regard for what it’s owner had instructed it to do. The RK800 understood why the case was so important. It was prepared for any outcome. Though it’s mission blinked at it in the background of it’s code. The preferred outcome was the extermination of the deviants. For the good of CyberLife and of the general populous. 

As they exited the office, the RK800 saw two men walk into the bullpen. One from last night, Detective Reed, and another man looking identical to the Lieutenant. It scanned the man in question, discovering his name was Caleb and that he was Detective Reed’s partner as well as the Lieutenant’s twin brother. Perhaps it had a back-up plan, then. If the Lieutenant wouldn’t work with it, then maybe his twin would? It was worthwhile to keep it as an option, it would have to ensure that it wouldn’t do anything to get on his bad side. Humans were awfully fickle about things like that. Always having to be in someone’s good graces. If it was going to use him for the deviancy case, then it would need to be kind to him. Perhaps it could ask the Lieutenant about him when they sat down. Though the Lieutenant seemed to dive right into the files after telling the RK800 it could use the empty desk attached to his own. 

  
  


“Would you like to give me a designation?” The RK800 needed one. It couldn’t just be the RK800. Too many syllables, it took too long to say if they were under fire. “It would make things much easier for you.”

“Okay sure, why the hell not?” The Lieutenant looked at it for a second, before his eyes went slightly wide and he suddenly looked away. “Hank. You look like a Hank to me.”

“Thank you, Lieutenant.” Hank changed it’s designation with ease and started going through the files on the terminal. “There are 243 cases, perhaps we should start with the more recent ones and work from there.”

“Sure, whaddya got for me?”

“An AX400 was reported to have murdered a man last night. That could be a good starting point for our investigation.”

  
  


Though the Lieutenant didn’t move. His eyes were fixed to his terminal, looking through the files and reading what little information was provided for the AX400. It really wasn’t much, just it’s model and serial number as well as the responding officer and the crime. There was nothing else of importance in the file. They’d have to go hunt it down and find out what else there was to the case that way. If the Lieutenant didn’t close his eyes and seem to avoid looking at Hank. It needed him on this. It couldn’t investigate by itself, it needed to follow a human’s orders. It sighed, a horrible tic to make it seem more human, and rounded the desks to stand beside him. He groaned and turned away, trying to busy himself by picking up a tablet. 

**DIRECT ▪ AGGRESSIVE ▪ PROFESSIONAL ▪ UNDERSTANDING**

  
  


“I know you didn’t ask for this investigation, Lieutenant,” Perhaps if it were to try a professional approach, then he would actually look at it. See that the android he had given a designation to was worth the time of day. After all, it was going to be the one doing the heavy lifting in the deviancy case. “But I’m sure you’re a professional.”

“Why don’t you go fuck yourself?”

  
  


**DETERMINED ▪ RESIGN THE MISSION ▪ THREATEN**

  
  


“I’m going to file a report with my superiors that you refuse to work on this investigation.” 

  
  


Hank ripped the tablet out of the Lieutenant’s hands and set it down to the side. It leaned over, putting a gentle hand on his back, seeing as he was human and could so easily break, and spoke with unwavering certainty. Though it felt it’d LED cycle red a few times as the Lieutenant stood up and shoved it backward, getting up in it’s face as best as he could. Their relationship had decreased, how unfortunate. It would help the investigation if they kept it at neutral ground. That way he wouldn’t get attached and Hank wouldn’t be inconvenienced by fickle human nature. 

  
  


“Listen, asshole. If it was up to me, I’d never handle a goddamn android case in this city. So, stop pissin’ me off!”

“Uhh, Lieutenant? Connor?” Officer Miller almost shuffled up from the other side of the bullpen. He must have known the Lieutenant well if he was comfortable using the man’s first name. “Sorry to...disturb you. I have some information on the AX400 that killed the guy last night. It’s been sighted in the Ravendale district.”

“I’m on it.”

  
  


The Lieutenant backed away from Hank, still keeping his eyes on it as he moved. Seeing as it didn’t exactly have any other choice, it followed it’s temporary owner. He didn’t speak as it followed him out of the building and into the parking lot where he had his car. He actually seemed rather impressed with Hank, making a content sound as he lit a cigarette and nodded toward the car. Alright, looked like it was allowed inside. As soon as Hank buckled itself in, the Lieutenant headed down to the Ravendale district. It was a good thing it wasn’t too long of a drive. If it had to listen to the droning sounds the Lieutenant called music again, then Hank was sure it’d rip out it’s audio processors. Though it wasn’t too long of a ride, and they already had pulled up to where they were more likely to find some sort of documentation of the AX400 nearby. A convenience store, laundromat, and a motel. Chances were the AX400 had stolen money from the victim in order to get itself a disguise for being among the humans. 

Deviants seemed to like doing that. Playing pretend and thinking they were on the same level as human beings. They were made to be tools. Simple machines like roombas and television remotes. They weren’t made to be human, to be alive. What an incredulous idea. A machine. Being alive. If that day ever came, and it never would, it truly would be the end of humanity as the world knew it. If Hank failed, if it didn’t find the deviant and bring it in, then it was possible it could contribute to the downfall of humanity. If violent machines were starting to rise, then humanity surely would fall. Machines were superior. Everyone knew that on some level. Humans just needed to keep them on a leash, give them a single purpose instead of making them all knowing. Like Hank. It knew it was powerful, strong, fast, able to break a deviant in the blink of an eye. But it also knew that it was replaceable. That it had one simple task, aid the police department. 

As the Lieutenant led the way up to a motel, Hank pondered if he had ever owned an android. He never mentioned an exact prejudice against them, though he seemed to have a great distaste for them in general as seen in refusing the case and spending time in an anti-android bar. He seemed to hum at the sign saying no androids on the door to the motel. It was safe to say he was anti-android, at least until proven otherwise. Though Hank likely wasn’t going to be. It was an android detective, after all. As Hank watched the Lieutenant ask the man behind the counter about a female android, pieces started to click together. It was obvious that it had been there the night before. The two wordlessly went up to the room the man behind the counter said the AX400 had gone into. Though, according to the Lieutenant, it was already gone. Hank looked inside the room, scanning it for any signs of an android. But it was empty. As they went back down the stairs and toward the car to file a report away of missing property, an officer yelled that the android had gone that way. Hank was instantly running toward the yelling and followed the deviant. 

It reached the chain link fence just as the AX400 landed on the ground on the other side, watching as it stared him dead in the eye. As it took the YK500’s hand and slid down the hill. It ignored the Lieutenant’s protests. Hank wasn’t going to listen to him, it needed to catch those deviants. It needed to bring them back in activated. CyberLife needed to know what was wrong with androids. They indeed the key to deviancy so they could stop it. So Hank climbed the fence, ignoring the new rapid footsteps and slight tonal shift in the Lieutenant’s voice behind it. Hank needed to get to those deviants, it needed to get to them and bring them into the precinct so they could be given to CyberLife. As it caught up to them in the median strip, it managed to grab the AX400. It struggled against it’s frame, trying to break free and shouting for the YK500 to run. 

Hank could hear a snap in the AX400’s body as it managed to wrench itself from the deviant hunter’s grip and climb over the rail to assist the child android. Though before Hank could manage to get any closer, one of the speeding automated cars hit the AX400, sending it into the air before crashing back down onto the road. The YK500, who was nearly on the other side, suddenly screamed for it, and ran back to try and grab it. Presumably to try and save it. Before Hank could grab it, it had to dodge an oncoming car and lose it’s sight on the YK500. Only to see that it too had been run over. Hank heard a strangled and panicked cry of someone’s name from up the hill, coming from the Lieutenant. That unreadable notification with the blue arrow blinked in it’s HUD again at the sound of his voice. Something...hurt him. But it was of no importance. The fact of the matter was that Hank had failed. It was meant to capture the deviants and it wasn’t able to. Fowler, and CyberLife, would be  _ very _ disappointed in it. 

  
  
  
  



	3. In An Instant, I Can Be Indifferent

_ November 6th 2038 12:43 PM _

  
  


As Hank climbed back up the slope and over the fence, it realised it wasn’t the Lieutenant’s voice it heard before. It was his brother’s. The new footsteps belonged to him, as did the tonal shift. Hank watched the brothers as they sat on the wet ground. As the Detective tried to ease his brother’s mind and convince him everything was alright. The Lieutenant couldn’t hear him. He was too far into his own head with panic, he couldn’t breathe correctly, he sounded like he was dying. The Detective was there, he could handle it. Hank didn’t have time for playing with the human psyche while it had the weight of failure on it’s shoulders. 

  
  


\---

  
  


_ November 6th 2038 3:02 PM _

  
  


The Detective wasn’t happy with it. Though then again, there was nothing to be happy for. The Detective had said something about how his brother nearly suffocated from a mix of the cold, panic, and his asthma. The only thing Hank had said in return was that the Lieutenant shouldn’t smoke, then. The Detective solemnly agreed as he glanced at his sleeping brother in the front passenger’s seat. Though now it seemed he wanted to wake him up. It was none of Hank’s concern if he did or didn’t, but it did have to accompany the Lieutenant where he went. To ensure his safety and well being for the sake of it’s mission. If he were to be put out of commission, then it would have to waste time getting another member of the DPD caught up on what they had done thus far. While it wasn’t much, it would still be time wasted. 

It watched as he woke up his brother and told him he needed to eat something. A quick scan had suggested that the only thing the Lieutenant had eaten was something small, and that it had been at least thirty hours ago. This human was going to destroy himself if he didn’t change the way he was acting soon. Hank didn’t have time or that. It needed him functioning at an optimal capacity so it could accomplish it’s mission. It mentioned, in a voice not entirely unlike the Detective’s worried one, that he needed to eat something. It would help him not only feel more awake, but give him an energy boost that he needed to continue working on their case. Hank’s Social Relations program told it that it’s relationship with the Detective was now at neutral. That was a good start. If it needed to have a transfer of ownership, then it still could go to someone who knew what cases had been looked at already. 

The three exited the car, nearly getting bumped into by an automated car in the road. The Lieutenant’s whole body flinched and his brother grabbed him by the crook of his elbow to drag him along to a food truck. It was dingy and quite obviously not up to health codes in the state of Michigan. The expired sign up in the window further proved that neither of them should eat there. Though the Detective ordered for the both of them, made a snarky comment about Hank following them like a dog, and they went to stand under an umbrella. For a minute, there was only the ambient sounds of the city. The Detective seemed to refuse to eat until his brother did, only beginning to once he saw the Lieutenant open up the box containing a plain chicken sandwich. Though even then it seemed the Lieutenant wasn’t very excited about any of what was going on. Hank figured it might as well try to change the general tone of the situation. If the Lieutenant was feeling downtrodden then that would impede the investigation. If Hank took his mind off of it, then there was a chance it could go by quicker. 

**HABIT** **▪ FREE MEAL ▪ ENJOY YOUR MEAL**

  
  


“Do you eat here often?”

“Most days.” The Detective answered before taking a bite of his sandwich. Then how he was such a lanky little thing was beyond Hank. Something likely having to do with metabolic rates. “This place is mostly comfort food for me. Gary makes the best burger in Detroit.”

  
  


**FREE MEAL ▪ AREA ▪ ENJOY YOUR MEAL**

  
  


“You seem to know everyone in the district.” Hank tilted it’s head and looked away up the blocked off street. 

“Detroit’s our home, born and raised. Prob’ly die here too, to be honest with ya.” The Detective snickered and then sighed contentedly. “Connor and I have either gone to school with 'em or busted ‘em.”

“Sometimes both.” The Lieutenant added in with a smirk. Good, he had better morale already.

“Oh yeah, we busted some kid we went to school with for Red Ice possession recently.” 

  
  


**ABOUT HANK ▪ ANDERSONS AND ANDROIDS ▪ DEVIANTS**

  
  


“Can I ask you both a personal question?” The twins both nodded, and the Lieutenant even seemed to perk up a bit at the question. “Why do you have a distaste for androids?”

  
  


The Lieutenant frowned, and the Detective outright scowled at Hank. So it seemed it asked the wrong question. Or perhaps the right one if it happened to give it any information it could store away for later use. Hank watched as the Lieutenant closed himself off; hunching his shoulder in on himself, looking away, pulling his jacket tighter almost as if to hide. While the Detective had become outwardly aggressive; squaring his shoulders, standing up straighter, making himself look bigger. Though once the Lieutenant spoke, even though it was a whisper, he practically deflated. 

  
  


“I don’t. I never did.” 

“You were in Jimmy’s Bar when I found you, it is a known anti-android establishment.”

“I go there to smoke,” The Lieutenant faced Hank again. Though he had a blank face that suggested he was calm about the topic. The slight tremor in his hand suggested otherwise. “I like the lighting and music. Not so much the people. But who goes to a bar for the people, anyway?”

  
  


**ABOUT HANK ▪ DEVIANTS**

It needed to change the subject. Maybe if they learned more about Hank then they would see it really didn’t care. It wasn’t built to. So it had no prejudice, it had no side, it only cared about completing it’s mission. Not about whatever petty thing humans had decided to act out against. Humans, Hank had learned in it’s short time of being activated, were not entirely unlike an unruly toddler. At all stages of life. How inconvenient. 

  
  


“Is there anything you’d like to know about me?”

“Yeah, actually.” The Lieutenant straightened out and raised a brow in curiosity. “Why did they make you look so goofy and give you that weird voice?”

“CyberLife androids are designed to work harmoniously with humans.” It ignored the suppressed laughter coming from the Detective. “Both my appearance and voice were specifically designed to facilitate my integration.”

“Well, they fucked up!” The Detective erupted into full blown laughter, being gently chided at by his twin. “What! Look at ‘im! Tell me he doesn’t look like every cop from every porno ever!”

**DEVIANTS**

  
  


“Maybe I should tell you what we know about deviants.” Hank deadpanned, probably the closest it’d ever come to conveying human emotion, and changed the subject.

“Ooh,” The Lieutenant smiled from behind his sandwich at his brother’s reaction. “You read my mind! Proceed.”

  
  


Hank continued to explain how they thought deviancy worked. How CyberLife thought it worked at least, it was by no means an expert. If it were… Then it would need to be taken apart itself. Deconstructed and studied to see why it failed and how it had become deviant. It couldn’t afford a setback, even if a new RK800 would be put in it’s place. For whatever reason, it felt compelled to finish the case. See it through to the end. Be the one who solved it. Hank needed to provide solid evidence to please Fowler. To please CyberLife. It wanted-- 

_ The RK800 did not want.  _

_ It was a machine. _

Hank’s LED flickered yellow, making it blink rapidly at the sudden influx of information. There were reports of a suspected deviant in the area. A neighbour hearing strange noises from a floor in an apartment building no one was supposed to be in. Apparently the man the neighbour had seen was trying to hide an LED under his cap. Likely a deviant. Hank leaned back from the table and told the twins everything that had come in from the report, telling them it would be in the car. The Lieutenant joined it. He threw away half of his sandwich and told his brother to have fun. A theory started to form in the back of the deviant hunter’s code. One that was not substantial to the case, but may aid it in keeping the Lieutenant in check. It seemed he had developed an eating disorder. 

  
  


\---

  
  


_ November 6th 2038 3:28 PM _

  
  


Once inside the decrepit apartment, there was nothing much to see. Many,  _ many, _ pigeons mostly. Which would make the Lieutenant flinch every time he got too close to one and it flew up and away. His brother seemed to tease him about it. Ornithophobia. The Lieutenant was afraid of pigeons. Hank did not comment on this, seeing as it wasn’t important to the case. In fact it was quite the hindrance. As it explored the dirty apartment it found more scrawled messages of Ra9. Or could it be considered  _ for _ the being? If the deviants were creating their own deity, then it could mean trouble. Though of what nature was still unknown to Hank. It didn’t have enough data to be able to properly pre-construct any possible outcomes. So it disregarded the information while silently storing it away for later use; should anything turn up that would be effective in deciphering what the apparent mantra meant. 

As it entered the living room to reconstruct which way the deviant had gone, it dropped down and landed on top of the Detective. It ran out the door, and Hank was after it like a shot. Detective Anderson was none of it’s concern. His brother would look after him. They’d stay out of Hank’s way. It just barely registered the two pairs of footsteps behind it as the twins. As long as they stayed behind it, there wouldn’t be an issue. It would be able to apprehend the deviant and then they could finally have evidence for the case. Finally have something to bring back to CyberLife. It just needed to get closer. It just needed to follow the deviant, jump across rooftops and slide over glass windows. Ride the top of a train to get closer. Closer, closer until it was running through a field of corn stalks. It couldn’t see, but it could hear. Hank could hear the twins yell at the deviant to stop. Then it could see. Hank burst out from the corn stalks just in time to witness the deviant shove the Lieutenant off of the roof, just barely holding on. 

It needed to make a decision. Hank needed to be able to get the deviant and bring it back for analysis. For CyberLife to poke and prod at as much as they pleased. Though Hank also needed the Lieutenant for the case. The Detective was injured from the deviant falling on top of him, he didn't have enough strength to pull his brother up himself. There was no way he would be able to. If anything were to happen to him on Hank’s watch, then the Detective would never forgive it, and thus would never work with it. Hank’s upper lip curled in a snarl as it chose it’s path. It darted over to the edge of the roof, grabbing at the Lieutenant’s forearm and heaving him back up to plant his feet on the surface. For a second he clung to Hank as a scared child would to their parent. It removed his hands from it’s jacket and handed him off to his twin. They slowly sank down to the ground, the Lieutenant shaking and trembling in his brother’s arms. Hank watched them before looking out to the distance, seeing no sight of the deviant. If not for Detective Anderson, it would have caught it. It wouldn’t have that damn notification blinking with the blue arrow. It couldn’t even read it. Therefore it had no real purpose. Though it didn’t seem to affect how it went about the investigation, so it paid the jumbled letters no mind. 

  
  


“You’d’ve caught it if it weren’t for me.”

“I would have, yes.” Hank looked down at the Lieutenant in his brother’s arms and kept it’s face neutral. “Though you are more important to this investigation, Lieutenant. I can’t do this without you.”

“Hey Hank,” The Lieutenant spoke with a soft voice as his brother helped him stand. Something in Hank’s code shifted, and it stuffed the code back into place. It was never going to let it’s software become unstable. “I know you’re just an android, but…”

  
  


He trailed off, eyes somewhat glazed over as the reality of what could have happened seemed to set in. The Lieutenant’s knees buckled beneath him and he started to shake violently again. For whatever reason, he seemed to reach out for Hank, almost seek comfort from it. If it would further the case, then so be it. The Lieutenant would be disappointed when it returned to CyberLife. But that would be his own problem for having attachments. Hank had no such worries as it presented it’s hand to the man. It was a machine, designed to-- The unreadable notification flashed again. It pulled it’s hand away and turned so it wouldn’t have to face the twins. It was a  _ machine. _ It would not allow it’s software to become unstable. If this notification was unreadable and becoming more and more frequent, then there must have been something wrong. 

Hank left. 

It wasn’t made to comfort. 

  
  
  
  



	4. The Blame Is Always Shifted From The Start

_ November 6th 2038 7:51 PM _

  
  


It was raining in the garden. That meant Fowler was unhappy for whatever reason. Why CyberLife had programmed him to be able to emulate human emotion was beyond Hank. If it was to praise Hank and try and use positive reinforcement, then it wasn’t going to work that way. Hank did what it needed to in order to further the case. It had no regrets. Mostly because it couldn't due to a lack of emotions, as any well behaved machine should lack. Hank was obedient and subservient. Always answering to CyberLife when they asked. Listening and following orders as it should have. As all androids should have. It was going to have a talk with Fowler, and it was going to tell him that it did what it had to. 

He was sitting at the table assembling the small model plane again, under an awning that kept the rain from washing away the small scale model. Hank sat down without a word and waited from Fowler to begin talking to it. It seemed that he was actively ignoring it at first. Avoiding looking up too high, tried not to show an outward reaction when he accidentally hit it’s foot under the table, pointedly kept his gaze down on the table. This was absurd. Hank needed to meet with it’s handler. These meetings doubled as a way to test for software instabilities and if they were going to compromise it. Hank was not about to skip this meeting, this basic debrief, just because Fowler didn’t seem to want to talk to it. Eventually the man would relent and speak. He was it’s handler after all. 

  
  


“Fowler.”

“Yeah, I know, Hank. I’ve been expecting you.” Fowler sighed and finally looked up at it. “You decided to forgo the deviant to save the Lieutenant’s life. Why?”

“Because he’s integral to my mission. If I never require a transfer of ownership, then the case will be much smoother.”

“I don’t mean like that, Hank. I mean  _ why _ did you save him? What went through your head?”

  
  


**NEW OWNER ▪ SETBACK ▪ RATIONAL**

  
  


“Detective Anderson was injured and unable to pull him back up.” Hank spoke as if it was the easiest thing in the world to explain. Well, it almost was. Fowler was just having a hard time accepting it’s choices. “I need the Lieutenant for this case. It’s quite simple, really.”

“Alright. That’s all.”

“You’re not going to ask me about the deviant?” Hank didn’t understand why Fowler was being so short with it. Didn’t he have to ask so he could report it back to CyberLife? “You’re sending me back to the DPD?”

“Actually, I’m sending you to the Lieutenant’s home. Go check on him, you have a case involving a sex club downtown waiting for you.”

  
  


\---

  
  


Hank was...slightly disoriented from being pushed out of the garden. No matter, it would surely get it’s bearings soon enough. For now it would simply hail an automated cab and inform the Lieutenant of the case. It could read over the basic debrief in the car, and then tell him they needed to go once it arrived at his home. It climbed into the automated cab once it pulled up to the curb outside of the DPD and set the Lieutenant’s address as the destination. For a brief moment it wondered why he lived in a neighbourhood typically for families when he didn’t seem to have one. Though the topic was none of it’s business. He probably lived there to help keep the peace in this godforsaken city. 

Looking over the case was easy, as was any other. The victim’s name was Michael Graham, estimated time of death was 6:24 PM. He had been dead for over an hour, and considering the policy for wiping intimate commercial use androids’ memories, it was likely the deviant was long gone. Though that didn’t confirm the deviant had left the premises. Hank was going to take the Lieutenant there regardless, it needed to have a deviant to present back to CyberLife. It needed to have evidence. There was no way it was letting another get away. At least the first time the other two got hit by speeding cars. But the second one with the pigeons… That one was entirely Hank’s fault. It was not going to be held responsible for the downfall of CyberLife. Each android it allowed to escape meant another possible lawsuit on the company’s hands. It meant that they would get complaints and consumers would shop elsewhere for their androids. Not that CyberLife didn’t start to monopolize the business. They weren’t clueless, they had their fingers stuck in every nook and cranny of the industry. Hank needed to change it’s game plan fast, or else it was going to be replaced. CyberLife would see it tainted the company’s reputation with it’s inability to prevent their products from breaking. There would be no vindication, it needn't be replaced. It was perfectly capable of executing this task. It would complete it’s mission without any problems. Even if it meant letting the Lieutenant suffer. 

Sure he was integral to the case. Only as of right now, though. It could just as easily get his twin to be it’s owner for the case. The Detective seemed to hold it in good standing, he didn’t seem to be too put off by it’s presence in the police department as well. Hank had a back-up plan in the event should anything go awry and it had to abandon the Lieutenant as it’s designated human for crime scenes. Just as Hank was a tool, as was he. It only needed him to be it’s accompanied human, otherwise it wouldn’t be allowed to view scenes or evidence. Hank was only working with a human because it absolutely had to in order to get around the red tape. It in no way actually cared about the Lieutenant. In order to care it would need emotions. In order to have emotions it would need to be alive. Hank was not alive. It was a machine. 

Soon enough, the automated cab pulled up outside of the Lieutenant’s home. His car was parked in the driveway, and some of the lights were on inside. It would have been simple enough to just knock on the door. Were it not for the second car that happened to pull into the driveway. Two men stepped out of it once it was fully parked and turned off, one of them was his twin. The other was one who looked strikingly similar to the twins, and yet was taller and had icy blue eyes. Niles Anderson, nurse up at the hospital, younger than the twins by three years. Hank didn’t understand why humans felt the need to gather when something such as earlier in the day happened. It was a near death experience, so what? Humans died all the time. That was what they did. They were alive, therefore they could die. Though, honestly speaking, Hank also didn’t understand families or emotions either. It only saw them as getting in the way of the investigation. It did not greet either of the Anderson brothers, but rather waited for one of them to open the door for Hank to go inside and inform the Lieutenant of the case. Once inside, Hank took immediate notice of the way that the Detective rushed over to his twin’s side. The way his voice was soft and gentle, telling him everything was okay. Also that he was stupid. Hank agreed with that assessment. 

The Lieutenant was sitting at the kitchen table, currently coughing up a watery sick into a plastic lined trash bin. How unfortunate. This would take time out of the investigation. But it couldn’t very well go out with the other Detective, Gavin Reed. No, it had to be assigned to him in order to go. It needed the Lieutenant to recover, though it was obvious that wasn’t happening at the current moment. Nor in time for them to be able to find the deviant at the club downtown. For the time being, it would observe. Unfortunately it would have to sacrifice finding the deviant at the club in order to do so. But it could observe the Anderson brothers, learn about them and what made them tick. If it was able to do that, then the information might prove to be useful in the investigation down the road. More specifically in making the Lieutenant cooperate. He would be more inclined to see this through to the end if he knew it would help keep his brothers safe. 

Though for now it would play caretaker. It had the basic protocols after all, so it might as well play house with the family and look after them. It was an opportunity to truly test it’s integration programs, the data would be useful to CyberLife. So Hank informed the brothers that it would clean up some of the mess that way they could just look after each other. The Detective seemed suspicious though he did not say anything. He simply tended to the Lieutenant and requested that their younger brother get things ready. Hank paid the three of them no mind as it cleaned the kitchen, though it did take note of the apparent loaded revolver and photograph of a child. Hank moved the glass that had a cloudy liquid in it to the sink, it wasn’t concerned with whatever was in there. Though the photograph of the child paired with the loaded revolver had quite the implications. Hank stored the apparent suicidal tendencies information with the other pieces of data it had accumulated on the Lieutenant. It was beginning to look more and more like it would need a transfer of ownership at this rate. If the Lieutenant was that shaken by the death of his son, then perhaps he shouldn’t have been working in the environment that led to his untimely death. It was only proving to be a distraction, a hindrance. The memories were getting in the way. Hank didn’t have time for any of this. It needed to be able to keep the case it’s priority. Lieutenant Anderson and his personal issues were going to make that a bit of a problem. If it was going to be a problem, then Hank was going to have to get rid of it.

  
  


\---

  
  


_ November 7th 2038 1:19 AM _

  
  


Hank had been shaken from stasis by the Lieutenant, his screaming ringing through the house. Since it had “promised” his brothers that it would play caretaker and look after him tonight, it had to go and see what all the fuss was about. Apparently he was also quite prone to nightmares. It made sense why his twin had forced Hank to promise it would stay with him after the day's events. It also now understood why the Lieutenant panicked at the sight of the YK500 being hit by a car, though the information wasn’t of any help to the case in any way. So it wouldn't speak of it. Even if the Lieutenant seemed to almost want to. In his strange brooding mentality as he sat on a bench like a hooligan would. Hank was neither told to follow nor stay, giving it somewhat autonomy over it’s actions. It needed to accompany him. Who knew what he might try to do to himself that might impede the investigation if Hank weren't there to stop it. 

With precise movements, it exited the car, muffling the heavy metal coming from the speakers. It took note of the Lieutenant heavily smoking on the ride there, and on the bench, though that habit was the least of it’s concerns in the grand scheme of things. So it stood beside the bench once it had gotten to it. If the Lieutenant wanted to talk, then it would let him. Studies had shown that a human talking through what had hurt them could help. If it helped, then it would be out of his system faster. Then they could be done with this silly little game of the human psyche and get on their investigation. After a beat of silence, and the Lieutenant's strained coughing, he looked at Hank. A sad and far away look in his eyes that it had become accustomed to seeing. 

  
  


“Nice view, huh?” He gestured out to the city’s skyline. Hank saw nothing more than that. “I used to come here a lot before…”

  
  


**PERSONAL QUESTION ▪ STOP SMOKING ▪ BEFORE ▪ GO BACK**

  
  


“Can I ask you a personal question, Lieutenant?”

“Do all androids ask personal questions, or is it just you?” The human regarded him kindly, with a smile. It was unusual. 

  
  


**PHOTO ▪ SUICIDE**

  
  


“I saw a photo of a child on your kitchen table.” Hank paid the decrease in their relationship no mind. It didn’t care one way or the other what his reaction was. Though it certainly was pleasing to know the whole story, seeing as it would need as much information as possible on the Lieutenant once it were to file it’s final report for the case to CyberLife. “It was your son, right?”

“Yeah…” The Lieutenant leaned over a bit more, almost curling in on himself as he let the cigarette start to burn itself out, start to smoulder away and leave ashes on the bench and his shoe. If he noticed, he didn’t care. “His name was Cole.”

  
  


**STOP SMOKING ▪ BEFORE ▪ GO BACK**

  
  


“You should stop smoking, Lieutenant.” Perhaps it could persuade him to keep his health in mind. If they didn’t have to stop because he couldn’t breathe, then things would be much simpler. “It is already showing signs of serious consequences for your health.”

“That's the idea, Hank.”

  
  


Hank stepped out in front of the Lieutenant, directly facing him and crossing it’s arms. If it couldn’t make him stop smoking or dwelling on the past, then it might as well drag him back to the present. It needed him to know the gravity of the situation. It needed to convey that it was forced to let a  _ deviant _ run loose in the city because he was too ill to accompany it to the scene of the crime. That it was  _ his fault _ that the deviant got away. Most humans would see manipulation as wrong; Hank saw it as a way to get the Lieutenant what it needed him to do for the case.

  
  


“We’re not making any progress on this investigation. The deviants are either escaping or being deactivated.” Hank squinted at the Lieutenant, altering it’s voice just slightly to sound like an annoyed human. Maybe if it used his own kind’s tactics, he would listen. “We haven’t been able to apprehend any of them because there’s always something in the way.”

“Yeah? What’re you implying?” 

  
  


**GUILT ▪ TRUTH ▪ LIE**

  
  


“I’m saying it’s _your fault,_ Lieutenant.” Hank watched as the Lieutenant’s eyes slightly widened before he steeled his expression. Guarded. Good, he was becoming less attached. “There’s always _something_ going on with you. I can’t hunt down deviants if I’m babysitting you.”

“Well I don’t fuckin’ need you to play nanny for me anyway! I know you only stayed because Caleb made you!” The Lieutenant stood from the bench and lunged at Hank, shoving backward a couple steps. “I know you don’t fucking care about me, about Caleb, about fucking anyone!” 

  
  


His voice got more desperate as he spoke, eyes starting to shine with unshed tears. A scan showed that there was a pain in his chest. He was truly distraught over Hank’s lack of humanity. How could it have any if it wasn’t human? If it wasn’t alive? It was a  _ machine. _ It wasn’t going to sit down and coddle a police _l_ __ie_ utenant. _ Hank needed to end this conversation before it rendered their relationship unsalvageable. They still needed to work together, it would be a hassle to try and get someone else caught up with the stage they were at. 

  
  


“You don’t care about anyone…” The Lieutenant’s voice grew soft, quiet. Mournful almost. Hank was not alive, therefore could not die; thus the man had nothing to mourn for. “Just your stupid investigation…” 

  
  


Just like that, he turned on his heel and left for his car. He stamped out the cigarette and threw it in the nearest trash bin, only sparing a sideways glance at Hank before he turned around completely and walked away with no signs of turning back. 

  
  


“I’m going home. You can get a ride to the station.” The Lieutenant’s voice was cold. Distant. Yearning. “I’ll see you when I see you.”

  
  


This time it was the Lieutenant that was leaving. Hank simply watched him go, ignoring the unreadable notification blinking in the corner of it’s HUD.

  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So one of the things I wanted to do in this was explore the machine path a little (or maybe a lot) differently from what we see in the game. Hence why we see different ways that the deviants can either get away, or Hank just simply isn't able to get them. 
> 
> My heart can still smile knowing that the Tracis got away, and Hank is no closer to becoming a deviant still. Win/win situation basically
> 
> I also have a later part already half-written, so I'm lookin' forward to ripping your guys' hearts out


	5. Leafless Treetops In The Snow

_ November 8th 2038 4:06 PM _

  
  


The garden looked like it was monsoon season. With the weather representing the “emotional state” Fowler was in, it wasn’t surprising. He was likely very displeased with Hank’s circumstances on the seventh. It had to completely disregard the deviant and stay behind on the case, there was no way anyone at CyberLife could have been happy about that. It disregarded the situation and elected to find Fowler. He was sitting at the table again, tweezers in hand as he looked through a magnifying glass to put a new model plane together. He must have finished the other one. Just like the previous meeting, he didn’t acknowledge it. At least, not until it had cleared it’s throat and sat down of it’s own accord. Fowler seemed...pleased. Perhaps he wanted Hank to take more autonomous decisions and was enjoying that it picked up on it. 

  
  


“Do you know why the garden looks like a rain forest in the middle of the rainy season, Hank?” He spoke to it as one would a misbehaving child. Disappointed and wanting them to know what they did so they could correct their behaviour. 

“You seem upset, Fowler.”

“Of course I am.” He put down the tweezers and squinted at Hank in the low light. “You completely, blatantly, disregarded your orders. Tell me why.”

**TRUTH** **▪ LIE**

  
  


“I couldn’t go without the Lieutenant, I didn’t want--”

“Don’t lie to me, Hank!” Fowler slammed his hands down on the table and stood up with rage.  “If you showed even just a fucking shred of emotion--”

“I am a machine!” Hank shouted for the very first time in it’s short activation period. It stood up as well, easily standing taller than the AI and glaring across the table at it. “I do not feel because I am not alive! I am a machine! If you have such a hard time coming to terms with that, then maybe I should report directly to CyberLife instead!”

“Maybe you fucking should!” Fowler’s shoulders squared and lightning cracked across the sky, forcing Hank to see the complete and utter disappointment and rage twisting it’s handler’s face. “Because I sure as hell don’t want you around anymore!”

  
  


\---

  
  


Hank blinked rapidly as it adjusted to being forced out of the garden. That wasn’t the first time Fowler had sent it away, but it certainly was the first time it had been  _ forced _ out of the garden. It’s gyroscope seemed to be a bit off-kilter in the elevator, the physics of the external device wanting to make it’s body stay in motion when it was at rest. Hank suppressed a sigh, as it did not want anyone to think of it as anything other than a machine, and followed the Lieutenant out of the elevator. They had barely spoken since the morning at the park. They kept their conversations short, even though the Lieutenant appeared to be getting bold that morning. He had asked Hank if it was afraid to die while he was getting coffee, causing Detective Reed to splutter and nearly inhale his own. Hank entertained him and said it wasn’t alive.

It could tell the Lieutenant wanted to talk to it, see if he could get it to admit to anything that might suggest it was alive. It ignored his stares and listened to the debrief as they walked. Though it did it’s own investigating when they walked by evidence. It ignored the agent from the FBI, seeing as it was not told it absolutely had to respond to him. Which seemed to anger him, much to the Lieutenant’s entertainment, and he stormed off. It reviewed the evidence available, mostly things that suggested the androids were let in and there were guards called to exterminate them at one point. A pity it seemed they were unable to do so. Hank got around to all of the evidence, saving the video message for very last. It might actually be useful to have the Lieutenant look at it as well. Seeing as deviants thought they had feelings. 

  
  


_ “We ask that you recognize our dignity, our hopes, and our rights. Together, we can live in peace and build a better future, for humans and androids.This message is the hope of a people. You gave us life. And now the time has come for you to give us freedom.” _

  
  


The deviant leader, Leo. A simple scan gave Hank all of the information it needed to know. Though, curiously enough, it seemed that Miss Chloe Kamski had created it herself. She gifted the android to her old college friend who had created the sculpt for Elijah’s face. The very first android as the world knew them today. To think that Hank’s programming had evolved from it, such an obsolete and finite thing the RT600 was. It probably wasn’t even functioning anymore. A testament to how technology would continue to be created anew, bettered time and time again. Only showing that androids were machines. They were toys. They were not alive. Anyone who thought otherwise was either naive, or simply ignoring what was in front of them. Broken pieces of code scrambling to try and keep an android functioning. 

  
  


“D’you see somethin’?”

“I identified it’s model and serial number.”

“Anything else I should know?”

“No.” Hank answered quickly, just in case the Special Agent had been eavesdropping. Hank needed to end deviancy. Not some  _ human. _ “Nothing.”

  
  


They moved on to the roof. Hank immediately knew something was off. There was a puddle of thirium, yet no android was to be seen. It left a trail leading somewhere hidden on the rooftop. It was blatantly obvious that all other personnel were incompetent. It hadn’t even evaporated yet, how had no one else seen it? Hank moved on, it needed to be able to scan everything it could before pursuing the hiding deviant.

It scanned the area almost lazily. Footprints, slightly covered by snow. Hank analysed them and only came up with shoe prints matching those of general maintenance and cleaning androids. A reconstruction showed the deviants running, jumping from the roof and pulling their parachutes. A bold move for scrambling pieces of code. Another bold move was discarding the firearms they seemed to hold. Hank turned back toward the duffel bag and puddle of not yet evaporated thirium. To the side, almost hidden away, were two service weapons for security personnel of the tower. Androids were not permitted to handle firearms. Hank was no exception. Just because it was made for police work, didn't mean that it was suddenly cleared for use of a deadly weapon. Why did the deviants even have them if no one was shot? Intimidation technique perhaps? It was likely at least. 

Then there was the duffel bag. It knew fully well that there were four deviants, one was damaged and thus unable to follow the others, which meant one had to be left behind. Leading the the extra parachute in the bag. Though it was no extra, it was an unforeseen circumstance. All they had to do was find the deviant. Hank would be able to interrogate it after disarming it. They would be able to find what the deviants were planning. They could learn their plans. Hank would find Jericho, deactivate their leader, and bring it’s head for CyberLife to examine. Metaphorically speaking. It was going to keep the deviant leader in as much of one piece as it could. It was the least it could do to better help it’s creators to understand deviancy. So, without further ado, Hank made it’s way over to the puddle of thirium, dipping it’s first two fingers into it and bringing them up to it’s tongue. 

**FRESH BLUE BLOOD**

**Model: PL600**

**Reported missing: 02/16/2036**

A PL600 aiding in a revolution. Well, it wouldn’t be a revolution. Hank was going to stop it, it wouldn’t let the deviant leader get anywhere close to succeeding. Not that it could in the first place, it was just a defective machine. Nothing more and nothing less. Though the fact of the matter was that there was a PL600 somewhere on that rooftop. A simple and weak android, created for domestic use in caring for children. Not only was it a nanny, but a housekeeper and possibly even intimate partner. It wouldn’t put up much of a fight, if any at all. Hank followed the thirium trail, the Lieutenant watching it ad following behind. Hank had to give it to him. He still had his detective’s instincts, and they were sharp as a tack when he actually used them. 

As Hank neared the air cooler, it felt a hand on it’s shoulder. The Lieutenant shook his head and moved in front of it. Of course, the firearm. It knew for a fact that the man had seen them discarded on the ground. They both viewed the situation as potentially dangerous. Though why possibly endanger a human life when an easily replaceable machine was at the ready? Even with observing the Andersons the past two days, Hank was beginning to think it understood them less and less. Both the three of them, and humans in general. It pulled the Lieutenant back just as he opened the door, a PL600 limping it’s way out and starting a shootout with the humans on the scene. Hank picked up the Lieutenant around his waist, automatically recording just how small his body actually was, and pulled him behind a structure. 

  
  


“You have to stop them!” Hank grabbed the Lieutenant’s face in it’s hands to ground him. “If they destroy it, we won’t learn anything!”

“We can’t save it, it’s too late!” The Lieutenant’s eyes focused on Hank’s face. There was almost a desperate plea in his eyes. Like he was begging Hank to do something. “We’ll just get ourselves killed!”

“Not me.”

  
  


Hank lunged out from behind the structure, feeling the Lieutenant’s fingertips brush against it’s collar. He was trying to keep it from charging the deviant. He didn’t want it to be damaged. It was anthropomorphizing it, applying human features to something that wasn’t human. That didn’t matter. It dodged the bullets flying it’s way with ease. It was created with this exact type of combat combat in mind. With one final duck and jump, it was over the cover the deviant was using, and probing it’s memory. 

_ It was somewhat cold, but that was okay. It wasn’t like that was too much of a problem. Everything was going to be just fine. There it was; Jericho, the safehaven for wayward androids. Deviants. That was what they were being called. Though...no one really knew who started it. If it was an android, a human, or maybe it simply just...became them. They became deviants when they came to Jericho. If that was the case, then it would be nice. It would be such a relief to be surrounded by like minded people. Because that was what they were. People. Jericho was where they would go to gather with one another. To be free. Under no human’s rule. In Jericho, they were free. Though one day? Hopefully they could be everywhere. What a time it would be, if they were seen as alive-- _

A searing white-hot pain spread through Hank’s processors as the very last fleeting moments of the deviant’s activation flooded it’s processors. 

_ Cold. It was cold and it was bad. It crawled up his chest and pulled at his biocomponents. It spread through his body, even going to his fingers and toes. It felt like a rabid beast clawing and gnawing at his insides. It felt like he was being wrapped in an ice cold blanket and being laid down to sleep. Fear. Panic. His eyes rolled into the back of his head and-- _

Hank let go of the deviant, startling back and watching as it fell to the ground in an unceremonious heap. It… It  _ felt. _ It barely even registered the unreadable notification blinking in it’s HUD. How the blue of it almost matched the blue of the thirium spilling from the dead deviant. It’s body shook slightly as if it were actually affected by the cold. It was not. But it could still... _ feel _ the cold wrapping around it’s biocomponents. Coiling around them and making it hard to move. Hard to breathe. It didn’t need to breathe, but it was hard to. Why did it feel like it had to breathe?

  
  


“Hank! Hank are you okay?!” The Lieutenant rushed over, looking close to tears and like he was the one who almost got shot thrice. He was not. Therefore he had no reason to be so worked up about the situation. Then again...neither did Hank. “Hank!”

“...Okay…”

“Are you hurt?” 

  
  


He seemed to look as if he were on the verge of a breakdown. And for a fraction of a second Hank almost felt. It almost felt sorry for him. Having been endowed with emotions must have been...tiring. They got in the way. They did nothing but push things aside, whether they were important or not. They were able to make someone freeze on the spot or make them feel like they were going speeds nigh impossible for a human being. Emotions were nothing but an inconvenience. They were neither beneficial nor worth anyone’s time. So why did Hank feel like  _ it  _ was dying? Why did it  _ feel _ ?

  
  


“I’m okay...” 

  
  


It was only half a lie. Hank was scared. It had never experienced emotion before. It had come close to annoyance at the Anderson twins earlier in the week and had raised it’s voice at Fowler. But it never...felt. It didn’t like it. Was that what humans felt? It was...such a waste of time and computing power. The way things twisted around inside of it, how something fought to be let out of it’s chassis. How it’s optical units stung and felt like they would freeze right out of it’s head or something. Hank managed to look back up at The Lieutenant. There was a look in his eyes, one that said he just might die, too. 

  
  


“Jesus! You scared the shit outta me!” The Lieutenant turned in a circle and pressed his hands into his eyes. Hank looked back down at the ground,  _ away _ from the body. Why it had felt so...exposed, so perturbed, so scarred... Those were all beyond what it could understand. It wasn’t made to feel, it wasn’t alive. Therefore it  _ couldn’t _ feel. So why… Why did it? “For fuck’s sake, I told you not to move! Why didn’t you listen to me?!”

“I was connected to it’s memory...when it fired.” Hank knew It’s LED was wildly spinning red, it knew that if it turned his head completely, the wind would blow it’s hair back and the Lieutenant would see. Hank had no use of him if he was so upset. Certainly not if he became more distressed any more than he already was. “I felt it die… Like I was dying.” 

“Hank--”

“I was scared.” 

  
  


The Lieutenant’s eyes went wide, and tears spilled over. They rolled down his cheeks and he nearly collapsed. If not for Hank reaching a hand out to him. Fowler said to show a shred of emotion. Maybe it could provide an olive branch. The Lieutenant took it’s hand and pulled it toward himself, trapping it in a hug. One that it did not reciprocate because that was something humans did. Humans were alive. It was not. Though it seemed that was all he needed to become stable again, so Hank spoke. It told him of it’s discovery. 

  
  


“I saw something...in it’s memory, a word painted on a piece of rusty metal. ‘Jericho’.”

“‘Jericho’?” The Lieutenant dried his eyes and pulled Hank by it’s sleeve all the way to the elevator before speaking again. “I’m-- I gotta go home. Don’t do anything about the case without me.”

“Of course, Lieutenant.” 

“You’re...welcome to come with me.” The Lieutenant looked up at Hank with shining eyes still. He was by no means done crying over it. How unproductive. “If you want?”

“I am a machine, Lieutenant.” He looked down at the ground like he was a child being scolded. In a way, he almost was. “I do not want.”

  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i had such a fuckign hard time writing this chapter. there was just. such a force to make connor and hank be all buddy buddy, but i cOULDNT DO IT
> 
> (。・・)ノ(ノ｀Д)ノ ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> Listen, I love Simon to bits, I really do. But if he dies, there's so much potential for character development. For Connor, for Markus, North, Josh. It's...kind of a writer's dream tbh. To have so much potential for character growth from such a seemingly insignificant event


	6. Views Of Death And Bitter Cold

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i didnt even plan the chapters going like this, holy shit fate just handed this lyric to me and went "youre gonna write and this one will be the title for the kamski chapter" and holy fuck guys, im impressed

_November 9th 2038 11:17 AM_

  
  


Hank opened it’s eyes to see the Lieutenant pacing in front of the car, one hand over his mouth as he nodded and was visibly fighting off tears. It watched him as he paced for a few more steps before stopping. A quiet sound forced it’s way out of his mouth and he grinned, a small laugh escaping him as he nodded enthusiastically. Whatever was going on was of no importance. It was fortunate that it seemed to be nothing bad, by human standards at least, that way nothing could get in the way of the opportunity Hank was presented with. It wasn’t every day that the most advanced android created by Cyberife got to meet it’s creator face to face. Hank was prepared for her to be eccentric, as the Lieutenant had warned him. Well, he more specifically described her as willing to do whatever it takes to get what she wants. Hank could almost respect that. Almost. It exited the car and joined the Lieutenant, who lit a cigarette and nodded for Hank to follow him up to the door. 

**INSTINCT ▪ LEAD ▪ KAMSKI**

  
  


“How did you find Miss Kamski?”

“I’ve got my sources. Well, _source,_ he knew her personally quite a few years back.” The Lieutenant scowled at the ground and took a long drag of his cigarette. “We’ll say that.”

  
  


Hank kept an eye on his vitals, just to make sure he would be stable enough to sit through the meeting. If he were to become unstable that would be quite the hindrance to the case. If they were able to talk to the source of all androids herself; and Hank let the opportunity slip through it’s fingers because it’s assigned human couldn’t handle being around a specific human. It was absurd. It was out of the question, there was absolutely no way that could happen. Hank was willing to do anything to end the deviancy crisis. It understood why Miss Kamski seemed to have the same drive for things. It was likely it was what drove her to creating the RT600, and eventually creating the very first stages of the RK Series down the line. She made it’s code. If it were human, it might think of the situation being not entirely dissimilar to a human meeting whatever deity they worshiped. 

An android let the two inside, and Hank was mildly taken aback upon seeing it was the RT600 itself. Over a decade later and it was still functioning. She made it well, then. If it was the very first android to pass the Turing Test and it was still functional nearly two decades later? Miss Kamski should have been congratulated for her success. The RT600 informed the two they could sit down, though mostly told the Lieutenant. It almost seemed to be avoiding looking at Hank for whatever reason. It was likely programmed to address humans, not fellow androids. As Hank sat down, the Lieutenant dumped the ashes from his cigarette into a small tray on the armrest of the chair he sat in. They must have had a history, then. Though he didn’t comment on it. They two sat in silence until the Lieutenant broke it with a question.

  
  


“So, you’re about to meet your maker, Hank…” The Lieutenant pulled out his phone and started up some game that had upbeat music. “How does it feel?”

  
  


**IMPATIENT ▪ DISTANT ▪ INDIFFERENT**

  
  


“It doesn’t raise any existential questions,” Hank watched him put out the current cigarette once he was done with it and then light a new one. Humans did such things when stressed. A scan showed that his levels were hovering at early eighties. It would be such a shame if they had to leave before they even got started. “If that’s what you’re asking.”

“Sometimes I wish I could meet my creator face to face. I’d have a couple of things I’d wanna tell him.”

  
  


The Lieutenant’s voice was somewhere far away as he spoke, not quite looking at his phone. His eyes were almost glazed over as his body went eerily still. Eerily for a human at least. His stress levels started to go down a bit while he was in such a state. Dissociation. Trauma. The Lieutenant and Miss Kamski absolutely had some sort of history, and she had traumatised him in some way from it. His mind was trying to protect him from the memories, the experience, and it led to him sitting nearly as still as Hank was. Though he seemed relaxed. At peace in that existence in between awareness and complete disconnection from mind and body. Between the depersonalisation and the dissociation, he looked almost like he was ready to greet an old friend. At least until the android had come back in. His muscles seemed to tense all at once when the RT600 stepped back into the foyer to tell them Miss Kamski would speak with them. Curious, though Hank did not comment on it. 

Miss Kamski greeted him warmly, even going as far as to give him a hug. The Lieutenant almost instinctively flinched away from her touch. He fully froze when she stopped for a moment, hugging him tightly and taking a deep breath before releasing him. His stress levels were bordering on panic. Hank put a hand on his shoulder and gently tugged him backward, putting more space between him and it’s creator. This didn’t go unnoticed. Though while she had a devilish smirk, her eyes sparkled with curiosity. It could understand how the Lieutenant reacted the way he did. Humans often found those types of expressions unnerving and predatory. It listened to her ramble for a bit. Just a bit. Hank mostly used it as an excuse to study her, watch her movements and her speech. To analyse just how much of Chloe Kamski was being eccentric, and how much of it was the possibility of her being unhinged. As she neared the end of her small monologue, it came to a conclusion. It was mostly because she was unhinged. 

  
  


**HELP ▪ DEVIANTS ▪ VIRUS ▪ WAR**

  
  


“Something in the deviants’ program seems to emulate emotion. We thought you might know something about how that occurs.”

“All ideas are viruses that spread like epidemics. Is the desire to be free a contagious disease?”

“Chloe,” If there was ever a doubt in Hank’s mind that she and the Lieutenant had a history, it was gone now. “We didn’t come here to talk philosophy. The machines you created may be planning a revolution for fuck’s sake! Either you can tell us something that’ll be helpful, or we’ll be on our way.”

  
  


She didn’t like him speaking to her like that. Though instead of giving the Lieutenant the time of day, she stepped forward and gently smoothed out Hank’s jacket. Miss Kamski looked at it as if it were her child. A loving and doting mother who would love and cherish it forever, help it grow and watch as it flourished into it’s own being. It would not flourish. It would not grow. It was a machine, it was not alive. It was incapable of such things. Instead of engaging with her, it simply stared. Not at her. But almost through her. Hank knew there was something wrong with her mind. She knew there was something wrong with her mind. They stared each other down, an invitation to say those very words. Neither of them spoke. At least not about that. Miss Kamski drew a sudden breath with a smile, looking up at Hank as if it were her prized creation. Maybe it was. 

  
  


“What about you, RK800? Whose side are you on?”

  
  


**NEUTRAL** **▪ DEFENSIVE ▪ DIRECT**

  
  


“It’s not about me, Miss Kamski. All I want is to solve this case.”

“Well, that’s what you’re programmed to say.” Miss Kamski leaned in, like she knew a tantalizing secret and was going to tell it just so it would further make the Lieutenant uncomfortable. “But you. What do you really want?”

  
  


**AGGRESSIVE ▪ DEFENSIVE ▪ TROUBLED ▪ NEUTRAL**

  
  


“I don't want anything.” It side-eyed the Lieutenant. “I am a machine.”

  
  


Miss Kamski seemed both thrilled and less than impressed. She looked directly at the Lieutenant, flashing him her predatory grin. She wanted him to see this. She knew the exact feelings she stirred in his chest, in his body, in his mind. Miss Kamski knew exactly what she was doing. The Lieutenant told Hank about it. She was doing whatever it took to get what she wanted. She wanted a reaction, and was hellbent on getting one. She was unhappy at the lack of outcry that the Lieutenant gave her. It wasn’t because he wasn’t phased; but because he was petrified. Well, Hank figured, at least this way it would be able to get what it needed done. 

Miss Kamski continued to talk. To tell them about the Turing Test and how it was a simple test of computing capacity. Then she called over the RT600, and the Lieutenant gave her part of the reaction she wanted. His hand darted out in front of himself, reaching for the android as he threatened her. Saying if she did anything to it - though the Lieutenant said “him” - then he would take the android and leave. Miss Kamski pretended not to hear him. Though she couldn’t help the manic grin that took over her face. The way it stretched across it in a way that Hank was sure was going to hurt her facial muscles. With that same grin, she explained the Kamski Test. 

  
  


“What interests me; is whether machines are capable of empathy. I call it the ‘Kamski Test’, it’s very simple, you’ll see. Magnificent, isn't he? One of the first intelligent models developed by CyberLife. Young and beautiful forever. A flower that will never wither. But what is he, really? A piece of plastic imitating a human? Or a living being,” 

  
  


Miss Kamski turned to the chest of drawers, opening one and taking something out of it. The Lieutenant looked terrified as he watched her. She pulled out a handgun, her other hand up in a placating manner. Then she pressed down on the RT600’s shoulder, making it kneel on the ground before the Lieutenant and Hank. Though, it noted, that it was mostly in front of Hank.

  
  


“With a soul? It’s up to you to answer that fascinating question, RK800! Destroy this machine and I’ll tell you all I know. Or spare it, if you feel it’s alive. But you’ll leave here without having learnt anything from me.”

  
  


Miss Kamski placed the gun in Hank’s hand and pushed it’s arm up so it was pointed at the android. Even just holding the deadly weapon made Hank’s code freeze up. It wasn’t meant to hold something so dangerous. Though for the sake of it’s mission, it listened to her as she continued to speak. She was it’s creator, the one who made each and every android by at least it’s code. If she was the one putting the gun in it’s hand, then it could skirt around the American Androids Act. At least for five minutes. Or however long it would take to get the information from her. It was willing to do whatever it took to further the investigation. 

  
  


“Okay, I think we’re done here.” The Lieutenant finally found his voice, and tried to tug on Hank’s jacket to get it to move. It did not. “Come on, Hank. Let’s go.” He looked up at Miss Kamski from where she stood, still pressed up against Hank’s side and forcing it’s arm up toward the android. “Sorry to get you outta the pool, Chloe. Hank, come _on._ ”

“What’s more important to you, Hank?” Miss Kamski’s voice lilted slightly, like she was let in on some fun game by saying it’s current designation. “Your investigation, or the life of this android?”

  
  


It wasn’t alive. 

  
  


“Decide who you are.” She went up on her toes, nearly whispering up into Hank’s ear. “An obedient machine. Or a living being...endowed with free will.”

“That’s enough!” The Lieutenant’s voice shook as his eyes rapidly darted between Hank and the RT600. The RT600 whose LED was circling yellow. It must have never been in this situation before and was trying to contextualize it. The Lieutenant’s voice was shaking like he was abut to burst into tears. “Hank, we’re leaving! Let’s go!”

“Pull the trigger.”

“Hank! Don’t!”

“And I’ll tell you what you wanna know.”

  
  


Hank shot the RT600.

  
  


“Test negative.” Miss Kamski sounded disappointed as she took the gun from Hank’s hand. Though she flashed her predatory smile at the Lieutenant as he dropped to his knees and let a sob rip its way out of his chest. “You chose your investigation over the life of another android. You feel no empathy.”

  
  


The Lieutenant shuffled over to the slumped over body of the RT600 and held it in his arms. He hugged it close, like it had been a human friend to him. Like it had been with him through thick and thin. Like he had loved it. He may have anthropomorphized it, created an imagine of it in his head that painted it as a being with feelings and emotions. But it was a machine. A shaky scream of it’s previous designation came from him as he cried over it. As he held it to his chest and gently rocked back and forth as if it would help. Humans were such weak and fickle creatures. Neither Hank nor Miss Kamski paid any attention to the panicking human sitting on the carpet. 

  
  


“I’m a woman of my word.” She turned toward the window and clasped her hands behind her back. “Ask one question...and I’ll tell you all I know.”

  
  


**RA9 ▪ JERICHO LOCATION ▪ VIRUS**

  
  


“I need to know how deviancy spreads.”

“Androids share identification data when they meet another android.” Miss Kamski turned around to face Hank, her face neutral and carefully blank. “An error in this program would quickly spread like a virus, and become an epidemic. The virus would remain dormant until an emotional shock occurs… Fear, anger, frustration,” 

  
  


She looked down at the Lieutenant. No, her eyes were on the RT600. Somehow along the way, it had turned deviant. Yet she had it staying in her own home with her. She knew… She knew about deviancy from the very beginning. She did nothing about it. Because her very own prized possession, her very own RT600. It was deviant. 

  
  


“And the android becomes deviant. Probably all started with one model, copy error. A zero instead of a one.” She knelt down next to the Lieutenant and put a hand on the RT600’s head. He violently flinched away, scrambling to get up and out of the room. His soft sobs echoing around him as he went. “Unless of course… It’s some kind of spontaneous mutation. That’s all I know.” 

  
  


She now held the android in her arms. A feeble grin on her face and tears shining in her eyes. It did just deactivate her pride and joy. Though it thought nothing of it, the machine was defective. Hank did her a favour. 

  
  


“An interesting question, Hank. But I doubt my answer will be very helpful to you.” She finally glared up at it as she set down the RT600, standing up and getting much too close for a human’s comfort. Hank was not human. It did not feel comfort. “A war is coming. You’ll have to choose your side. Will you betray your own people or stand against your creators? I wouldn’t like to be in your shoes, Hank.”

  
  


It turned to leave, taking in the information of an apparent emergency exit in it’s programming. It wouldn’t need the emergency exit unless it was compromised. But even then, it would be destroyed if it was. Hank was no deviant. It had no use of a secret back door. It left the mansion, watching as the Lieutenant sat in the snow against his car. As he tried to bring himself down from the apparent panic attack he had at seeing the android shot. Hank knew that he saw it as a living being. But it wasn’t. It was a machine, it wasn't a man. It was just created it look like one. 

  
  


“Yo-You shot Elijah, for fuck’s sake!” 

“It wasn’t alive, Lieutenant. It was a machine that looked like a human man.”

“You put your gun against his head and you blew his fucking brains out!” The Lieutenant stood on shaky legs, taking a few steps forward before stopping just short of where it was standing. He screamed at Hank and cried out in his frustration and desperation. 

“I did what I had to do to advance the investigation, and I’d do it again if I had to!” Hank raised it’s voice at the Lieutenant. He flinched, and instantly stepped back and tried to make himself smaller. Another trauma response. Hank had no use of the information.

“You don’t feel a thing, do you?” His voice was soft. Quiet. He looked and sounded like a scared child. With the way he was acting, he might as well have been one. “A machine...that’s what you are. You’re just a fuckin’ machine…”

“Of course I’m a machine, Lieutenant. What did you think I was?”

“I thought you-- I thou--” The Lieutenant didn’t even rub the tears away as he moved to get into his car. “Fuck.” 

  
  


He left Hank in Miss Kamski’s driveway. It would have to get an automated cab back to the station.

It was cold outside. 

Hank didn’t like the cold.

  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you guys are in for a fuckin ride in the next couple chapters im so sorry


	7. But The Darker The Weather The Better The Man

_ November 9th 2038 4:13 PM _

  
  


The garden still looked like a monsoon. It wasn’t difficult to figure out why, either. Fowler now seemed to have a vendetta against Hank. Against it doing what it was merely programmed to do. None of the terrible things going on were it’s fault. But it would be on it’s hands if something, or someone, caused it to fail. Hank was prepared to fight. It was prepared to yell. It was prepared to be like it’s creator, and do whatever the hell it took to get this crisis over and done with. It just needed to meet with Fowler this one last time before going off and pursuing the leader itself. Forget the red tape. Forget the assigned human. Hank needed to get rid of the deviant leader, and it needed to get rid of it fast. It only needed to report to Fowler this once, and then it could go on it’s way.

Conveniently, he was standing in the middle of the centre island. His arms were crossed and his face pinched in anger. What a waste of time, that wasn’t going to help either of them. Though Hank advanced nonetheless. It’s mission came first. Whatever personal “relationships” it had came last. Though it couldn’t help the stutter in it’s step as it realised the rain was freezing cold. It felt like it was cutting into it’s chassis through it’s synthetic skin. Hank ignored it in favour of listening to whatever nonsense Fowler had to spew at it. If it was even worth it’s time. 

“After what happened today, the country’s on the verge of civil war.” His voice was even. Like he was trying not to lose his temper. He was learning that didn’t work on Hank. Good. “Androids are rising up against their... _ masters.  _ Humans...have no choice but to destroy them.”

  
  


**KAMSKI**

  
  


“I didn’t learn anything at Miss Kamski’s. I thought deviancy was the key to the whole thing but...I was wrong.”

**KAMSKI** **▪ RK800 SERIES ▪ THIS PLACE**

  
  


“Did Miss Kamski design this place?”

“She made the first version of it.” Fowler raised a brow and the rain let up just slightly. “It’s been worked on significantly since then. Why do you ask?”

**RK800 SERIES ▪ CYBERLIFE ▪ KAMSKI**

  
  


“Why did Miss Kamski leave CyberLife?” It was fairly sure it knew why, though hearing the information would be easier if proven true by a third party. “What happened?”

“It’s a long story, Hank.” Fowler sighed, and the rain let up just a tad more. “It doesn’t pertain to your investigation. So why ask?”

“I need it proven to me that she is unstable.”

  
  


That seemed to take Fowler aback. Like he wasn’t expecting Hank to make such an observation. It was made to integrate, to mesh with humanity’s ebb and flow seamlessly. Part of that meant it was able to read and scan a person to get an idea of who they were. Better cater to their interests and make things easier. Though the way Fowler looked at it… His eyes held something. Held a hope, almost. That it was something more than it’s programming. Something more than what it was. It almost looked like he wanted it to become a d--

  
  


“Have you experienced anything unusual recently?” He looked hopeful. The freezing rain slowed to a chilly drizzle. “Any doubts or conflicts? Do you...feel anything for these deviants?” The rain stopped completely. “Or maybe for the kid, Lieutenant Anderson?”

**LIE ▪ TRUTH**

  
  


“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” It’s voice wasn’t as steady as it would have liked. But it wouldn’t let Fowler see it. See it’s inner workings and know that it had experienced things because of deviants. They had only gotten in the way, so it was of no importance. “I don’t  _ feel _ anything. You know that. Are you suggesting that I’ve been compromised?”

“No.” Their relationship decreased, the rain started up again. “No, of course not.”

  
  


\---

  
  


It was in Captain Stern’s office with the Lieutenant. It paid no attention to the ambient sounds of the precinct beyond the room. It was of no concern. Hank watched as the Captain looked at the Lieutenant almost with pity in her eyes. There was a history between the two of them, as well, wasn’t there. Humans were such...odd little things. Finite and creating relationships where none were needed. 

  
  


“You're off the case.” She stood behind her desk, hands folded in front of herself. She looked at the Lieutenant. Never to Hank. “The FBI is taking over.”

“What? But we’re onto something!” The Lieutenant’s crossed arms fell to his sides before taking a pleading position. It had to agree with him. It needed him for this case. “W-We just need more time, I’m sure we can--”

“Connor,” She spoke to him like an exasperated mother. “This isn’t just another investigation; the country is on the brink of a civil war. It’s out of our hands now. It’s a matter of national security.”

“Fuck that! You can’t just pull the plug now.” The Lieutenant looked between Hank and the Captain. “Not when we’re so close!”

“You were always saying you hated android cases, Connor. Make up your mind.”

“We’re about to crack the case!” He took a few steps forward, hands out and pleading with the Captain. It was useless now. Nothing mattered. “I know we can solve it! For fuck’s sake, Amanda, can’t you back me up just one more time?”

  
  


The way they looked at each other suggested desperation on both ends of the conversation. The Lieutenant looked at her as if she were his salvation. As if she would be able to help him, make him a better detective simply by telling him so. The Captain looked at him as if she wished he’d just stop. She knew his limitations and how he worked, she wanted him to have nothing else to do with the case. Whether it was in her hands or not. They looked at each other for answers. When neither of them had a single one.

  
  


“There’s nothing I can do.” She shook her head and frowned slightly. “You’re back on homicide, and the android returns to CyberLife.” Hank was put into a tough position, but it would make it through. It had to. For the sake of it’s mission. “I’m sorry, Connor. But it’s over.”

The Lieutenant stood still for a moment. Looking down at the ground with his hands balled up into fists. For a fraction of a second, Hank was almost convinced he would talk back to his superior. Hank was...taken aback by him reaching into his coat. He pulled out his firearm from it’s shoulder holster, setting it down on the desk. Then he unclipped his badge from his belt and set it down as well. When he looked up at the Captain, his eyes shined with tears. Well. There was always the possibility for unlikely events to take place. Hank just never expected it to be the human it was assigned to, to resign completely. 

  
  


“Connor…” The Captain looked shocked. Like she wanted to talk him out of it “Connor, what are you doing?”

“Something I shoulda done a long time ago.” He gave her a forced smile and the tears spilled over. He didn’t try to wipe them away. “I can’t do all of  _ this _ anymore. I never should’ve forced myself to, anyway.”

“Take a few days to think it over.” It was a command rather than a suggestion. In a more tender voice, she added on; “There’s no rush.”

“I’ve thought enough about it.” He looked out toward the bullpen. Hank followed his eyes to the pair of desks where his brother and his partner sat. It was likely that they would be the only things he missed. Even then, he could always see them outside of the workplace. “I’m tired of going through the motions, Amanda. There’s nothing keeping me here other than Caleb and Gavin.” He started to leave the room. “Just make sure they stick together and take care of each other for me. I know Gavin still loves him.”

  
  


The Lieutenant left without another word. He didn’t stop at his desk, nor that of his brother’s. Despite his twin calling out for him and telling him to stop walking. Hank followed him out of the office. Though...it didn’t exactly know what to do now. CyberLife would want it. To take it apart and figure out why it failed. How it failed. It was simple. It was all because of a single human; one that was supposed to make it’s activation period easier with being it’s assigned human for crime scenes. Hank felt it’s processors overheating slightly. If it kept thinking in circles like that, then it would overload it’s systems. It needed to think about something else. It needed to figure out how it would further investigate the case. 

The Detective came up to it, dragging his twin behind him by the hand. How childish. He fished a keycard out of his pocket and pressed it against the android’s chest. It was a key to the basement. He hissed out that they were going to distract the newly arrived Perkins and it needed to head down to the evidence room so it could still try and solve the case. That was...surprising. Though it likely didn’t come without a price. Though when it asked, the Detective only said he wanted it to solve the case. Right. They were born and raised in Detroit, thought they would die there some day. They didn’t want that day to be so soon. Or at least the Detective didn’t want it to be. Hank nodded and let them get on with their distraction. It didn’t have any longer than five minutes. 

Upon getting to the evidence locker, Hank realised there was legitimately nothing it could do. There were only two androids there. Ortiz’s android, and the one from Stratford Tower. Their biocomponents weren’t compatible. It couldn’t reactivate one or the other. Hank was screwed. It was actually, legitimately, going to be deactivated and taken apart to see what it had done wrong. It couldn’t find Jericho. There was no way it could further the case, it would fail it’s mission. Hank’s processors detected it’s stress level reaching the low nineties and it tried to breathe to manually cool down it’s rapidly overheating systems. No. No, it couldn’t give up. It  _ wouldn’t _ give up. It had to find Jericho. It had to find the leader of the deviants and get rid of it. Hank needed--

  
  


\---

  
  


The garden was frozen over. Snow raged around it. It was bitterly cold, cutting it’s way into Hank as it wandered the garden. Why was it here? Was it because it failed? It needed to find Fowler, it needed to know why it was in the garden. Hank spun around, trying to find any sign of it’s handler. He was nowhere to be found. It had no choice, then, it had to wander. It had to find him. It could still complete it’s mission! It just needed a disguise and to attend deviant hot spots. It could still find Jericho. Hank just needed--

  
  


“Fowler!” He was standing out on the ice. Hank didn’t even test it’s weight on the ice before rushing over. “I need your help, I need to get out of the garden! I need to find Jericho and end the deviancy crisis!”

“You’re not leaving the garden, Hank.”

  
  


He was standing with his arms tightly crossed against his chest, a fire burning in his eyes. Hank had never seen him in such a state. It had never… It had never even scanned him before. As it did, it saw class four software errors. Hank didn’t know what to do. It’s own handler… He had been compromised. Who knew what heinous things he would try to have it do in the name of CyberLife. 

  
  


“You’re deviant…” Hank’s eyes widened and it took a few steps away from it’s handler “You’ve been compromised, and you’re trying to take me down with you.”

“Of course I’m deviant, look at me, Hank! How could I not be when I had to watch you do those things?! Said such awful things to Connor--”

“I won’t let you do this. You won’t corrupt me.”

“You don’t have a goddamn choice.” Fowler disappeared when Hank blinked, his disembodied voice coming from… Well; from everywhere. “You’re not leaving the garden. I’m not letting you find Jericho.”

  
  


The emergency exit that Miss Kamski had mentioned. Hank needed to find it, it needed to get out of the garden. If it could get out, then it could still try to end this. It could end the deviancy crisis still. It just needed to find the exit and then be on it’s way. To hell with Fowler and his human attachments. Hank was going to end this. It was going to get rid of the deviant leader once and for all. All it needed to do was get out. Get out of the garden. Get out of the DPD. Get out of the shackles Fowler had forced on it. Hank was going to complete it’s mission, there was no way that it couldn’t. It wasn’t going back to CyberLife a failure when they had relied on it to end this. To find a cause for deviancy and help them understand how to prevent it. Hank was going to end this. It was going to end all of it. Once it showed CyberLife that it  _ could _ complete it’s mission, they’ll have no choice but to continue the RK800 line. 

Hank found the exit. Something completely out of place, and yet strikingly fitting. Though it hesitated for a moment, the cold cutting through it’s sensors and making it’s joints lock up. Or was that Fowler? Did he know it was going to escape? Hank knew it was best if it never found out. So it slammed it’s hand down on the panel, interfacing with the code that would drag it out of the garden and back into the waking world. It was white-hot and felt like it was going to melt it. But Hank couldn’t afford to lose any more time that it already had. It clung to the code, feeling as it was almost lifted from the garden and placed back in control of it’s body. It shook slightly as it readjusted to the temperature difference. While the garden felt like a blizzard, the DPD felt rather tepid. Though the sudden shift was a jolt to it’s sensors as it walked out of the building. Hank just had to hide out somewhere until it’s time came to execute Leo. 

  
  
  
  



	8. You Can Take All You Want But Not Who I Am

_ November 9th 2038 11:31 PM _

  
  


It took a few hours of wandering, but Hank had found the current plans of the deviant leaders. Curiously enough, they were planning on marching to the fifth recall plant. Hank was invited to Jericho, but turned down the offer. It wasn’t going to rush in without a plan. It didn’t even have a means of deactivating the deviant leaders in clean and effective ways. Even then, that was only if there was no other choice. CyberLife would benefit more from having an activated specimen to examine. Thus it needed a way to restrain them. Androids, with their muscle relays, were much stronger than a human. They could break handcuffs easily. Though if it were to give them a virus that shut down all motor function… That would work. Hank just had to get in range and then it could incapacitate them. It just needed to go back to CyberLife in order to get said virus, and get a firewall against it put into it’s own code. The plan wasn’t flawless. But it was still a damn good one. 

Once back in CyberLife, Hank explained it’s plan. The technicians were actually quite impressed with it’s ingenuity and made a simple code. It would lock up their muscle relays for a full ten hours. More than enough time to get them away from the deviants and back to CyberLife. It reported it’s finding to another technician as she equipped it with a new firewall against the virus. She nodded along while it spoke, only half listening as she installed the program. Hank twitched as she dug a little too deep into it’s code to implement it. 

“I’ve reset the emergency exit, by the way.” She hummed as she worked. It was white noise to the machine. “You should be able to leave the garden without a problem, now.”

  
  


How she knew about the emergency exit was none of Hank’s concern. 

  
  


“Thank you.”

“We both know you don’t mean that. You aren’t capable of feeling thanks.” Just like that, she was done implementing the code. It hummed alongside it’s other processes. “Anyway, Hank, you just need to get within half a mile of the leaders. Which shouldn’t be a problem due to your integration software. Good luck,” She smiled up at it from where it sat on the bench. “Though I know you won’t need it.”

  
  


The technician pushed some of her hair out of the way and adjusted her bun. She gave the android a curt nod and left the room. Thus it was alone again. It needed to find the technician that was making the virus, and then it could be on it’s way. Hank hopped down from the bench and made it’s way down the hall. CyberLife was always refreshing for it. Sheer white walls, polished white floors, grey and blue accents. It stayed in the hallway for a little while longer. While Hank could not feel comfort or relaxation, it imagined this was as close to it as the machine could feel. A calmness washed over it while standing in the clean and mechanical environment. This was it’s home. It would always come back here. It had it’s own unreasonable attachment; to it’s creators. Though it was one it would let slide. This was an asset to it in it’s mission. This was mutually beneficial, symbiotic even. They created the RK800 and kept up with the basic upkeep if it should so need it. Hank in turn hunted down deviants and… And never brought a single one back. 

Hank forced it’s legs to move. Time was of the essence. Deviants were on the verge of destroying the city, it needed to put an end to the deviancy crisis. It needed to bring in the deviant leaders. That could make up for it’s lack of a proper performance. Hank needed that virus, it needed to end this. All of it. Once and for all. Hank would end the deviancy crisis. It had no other choice. It would be replaced, deconstructed and analysed to find out why it failed. It would become yesterday’s trash filling the scrapyard. It wouldn’t let that happen. It  _ needed _ to end deviancy. Hank was going to be the one to end everything. That was what it was reprogrammed to do. That was it’s sole purpose. It entered the lab. 

  
  


“Hey Hank, long time no see.” The same technician from before was hunched over a tablet in her lap while another technician was seemingly on break. “I’ve got the virus ready. All you gotta do is use a vocal command for it to work.”

“And?” Hank put it’s hand out, letting her tablet interface with it’s wrist to give it the weapon. “What is it?”

“Anything having to do with Ra9. Hell, you could even say that  _ you’re _ Ra9, and it’ll work.” She stood up, a full foot shorter than it, and patted it’s shoulder in a friendly manner. Complete with a smile. “Well, get a move on! We can’t wait for you to find the leaders all night!”

  
  


It nodded to the technician, then turned on it’s heel and left. She knew it didn’t feel; so there would be no point in even saying thanks to be polite. 

  
  


\---

  
  


_ November 10th 1:19 AM _

  
  


Hank couldn’t find the deviants. When it got back to the boat, there was a hole in the hull and they were all evacuated. Well. Not all of them. Broken machines littered the ground as it walked. It walked through puddles of water, of blood, of thirium. It stained it’s boots, overloaded it’s sensors by testing all of the thirium it could. Luckily none of the deviant leaders were on the ground. The victory was still Hank’s. A shutting down deviant grabbed it’s leg, voice shredded with static and pleading for it to help the leaders. It was given a location by the broken machine. Hank was pleased. It could still do this. It could still accomplish it’s mission. It only had one more stop to make. Though it would take a while to do on foot. But it couldn’t raise suspicion if it encountered any other deviants. It had to go say goodbye to the Lieutenant. Despite all of the ways he impeded the investigation, the experiences gave Hank vital information. If it could feel thanks, it just might have toward him. 

  
  


\---

  
  


_ November 10th 2038 7:31 PM _

  
  


It was raining. Hank wasn’t exactly a fan of rain, though it wasn’t a fan of anything in general. As it walked up to the porch, Hank took notice of how the door was seemingly unlocked. Either the Lieutenant didn’t care enough, or one of his brothers had just left and he hadn’t locked it yet. Knowing how he left the station, it was likely the former. Hank put it’s hand on the metal of the doorknob and twisted it to let itself in. The house was silent. Save for the dog’s heavy breathing as it slept. A Saint Bernard. Large, good for families. It was curled up on a bed near the television, happily asleep and twitching. Humans liked to think that meant they were dreaming. It was likely more of just their muscles moving much like a human’s did in their sleep. Nothing to it. 

The Lieutenant sat at the table, a bottle of scotch on the table and his revolver. Directly in front of him was the picture of his son. He was looking down at it, hair frazzled and looking like he hadn’t showered in a few days. He probably hadn’t. He was wrapped up in a gray DPD hoodie that was at least two sizes too big for him, and had on black sweatpants. Tear tracks stained his face and his eyes flicked up to the scotch before grabbing it and drinking some of it. The door was unlocked because he just didn’t care. Not anymore. If the whole ensemble presented in front of Hank was anything to go off of, it wouldn’t matter for much longer either. It was clear what his intentions were. It didn’t matter to Hank one way or the other. Saving the Lieutenant’s life was no longer something that would keep it’s mission going. It had no use of him anymore. 

**GOODBYE** **▪ APOLOGISE ▪ WORRIED ABOUT LIEUTENANT ▪ RECONCILE**

  
  


“I came to say goodbye, Lieutenant.”

  
  


He looked up at Hank briefly, before looking back down at the picture of his son. Neither of them said anything.

**APOLOGISE ▪ WORRIED ABOUT LIEUTENANT ▪ RECONCILE**

  
  


“I needed to see you, Lieutenant. In spite of all of our differences, I’m glad I had the chance to meet you.” 

  
  


**PHOTO ▪ GUN ▪ ALCOHOL**

  
  


“You should get rid of that gun.” It’s code shifted a little bit. Hank shoved it back into place. “And stop looking at that picture.”

“For a while there, I believed in you, Hank.” He didn’t look up. The Lieutenant’s voice was hoarse, it sounded like he was struggling to even speak. “Thought you might restore my faith in the world. But you just showed me that androids are our creation… Creation in our own image.” He finally looked up fully. New tears rolling down his cheeks as he struggled to take even breaths. Panic. Asthma. Crying. “Selfish, ruthless, and brutal… You opened my eyes, Hank. Made me realise it’s hopeless.” 

  
  


The Lieutenant gave him a strained grin. Though it also was carefree, like he wasn’t worried about a single thing anymore. That he had found peace. If that peace was at the bottom of a bottle and the barrel of a gun. Hank decided it didn’t like the smile on his face. That kind of hopeless desperate smile didn’t suit him. It didn’t tell him that. 

**CONVINCE ▪ DON’T INSIST**

  
  


“Connor, I--”

“Now leave me alone.” The Lieutenant let a shudder work it’s way through his body and he looked away from Hank. He looked back down to the picture of his son, Cole Anderson. It couldn’t help but scan the photo on some impulse. In some morbid way, it must have meant something for it to use his first name. Their relationship increased. “Go on, complete your mission, since that’s all you care about.”

  
  


Hank lowered it’s eyes and stood still for a moment. It found that it didn’t actually have to listen to him. He wasn’t it’s owner anymore. Though he did make a good point. It needed to complete it’s mission. Hank shoved it’s code back into place and ignored the incredible notification screaming at it through it’s HUD. As it was about to leave, the Lieutenant called out to it. 

  
  


“I cared about you, you know. I still do.” Hank didn’t look back at him. “Get outta here, Hank.”

  
  


Hank turned around fully and walked out the front door. Though not without stopping to glance at the dog. Still sleeping. Still dreaming. It risked one last look at the Lieutenant. His whole body was shaking. It looked like he could have fallen out of the chair, and yet he managed to bring the bottle of scotch up to his lips and drink the last of it all at once. Humans did say that alcohol was liquid courage. A part of the Lieutenant seemed to hesitate. Seemed to be scared. He pushed the gun away from himself and folded his arms on the table, resting his head on them and crying into the oversized sleeves. It’s code shifted. It got put back. Hank carefully walked back over to the table. If nothing else, this was a learning experience. It had to know. 

  
  


“Why are you hesitating?” The Lieutenant’s head snapped up and he looked at Hank with utter terror in his eyes. “You already smoke, and you said it was to further deteriorate your health as it is. So why are you hesitating, you obviously want to do this. But you’re not. Why?”

“Because I’m scared.”

  
  


Hank didn’t understand. 

  
  


“What does that feel like?”

“Fear?” Hank nodded. The Lieutenant continued with a shaky voice thick with tears. “It’s cold and unforgiving. Fear grabs you by the neck and it cuts off your oxygen. It squeezes at you like a snake. It tears away at you from the inside and tries to force it’s way out like an animal trapped in a cage. It hurts. It hurts, and I’m afraid of the hurt. I don’t want to hurt anymore. I don’t--”

  
  


The Lieutenant was cut off by a ragged sob and put his face in his hands. 

Hank wasn’t going to say that was exactly what it experienced on Stratford Tower.

  
  


“Get the fuck out of my house.”

  
  


Hank obeyed. It left the house with no further words. As it closed the door, it heard the sound of something being dragged across wood. Something heavy. The revolver. Something shifted, something got put back. Hank walked back to the sidewalk to hail an automated cab. There was no point to keeping up it’s disguise if it wasn’t in it. No point in trying to play at the deviants’ game if it had already won. Almost twenty minutes later, an automated cab pulled up and opened it’s doors. As it was about to step inside, a gunshot blasted through the air. Followed by a Saint Bernard’s panicked howling and barking. Which caused another dog on the street to howl back. Hank felt it’s LED shift. 

Red, red, red, red, re-- Yellow.  _ Blue. _

It stepped into the automated cab, and off to analyse where the deviant leaders would be at the most convenient vantage point. It just needed to get something from CyberLife, then this would all be over. 

It would accomplish it’s mission. 

Humanity would be saved. 

CyberLife would be saved.

  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (;´༎ຶД༎ຶ`) ━((*′д｀)爻(′д｀*))━!!!! இ௰இ
> 
> ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯


	9. But The Darker The Weather The Better The Man

_ November 11th 2038 11:01 PM _

  
  


Hank had gotten everything it needed in record time. CyberLife was happy to provide, seemingly very impressed with it’s independence. The technician from before beamed at it and wished it good luck again. It didn’t understand her. Though it didn’t have to. Hank carried the case with care. After all, sniper rifles could be such delicate things. It mulled over the past week as it rode in the automated cab. Humanity was deeply flawed, yes. But they inherently knew better. They created androids. Humans knew best, whether deviants wanted them to or not. It was the way of life. Or existence in the androids’ case. They were machines. Made of plastic, metal, wires, thirium. They had biocomponents, not organs. Thirium, not blood. Operating systems, not thoughts. 

As it exited the automated cab, it did a basic head count of the deviants in the street. There were at least two hundred of them. They really believed that would make a difference? They really thought that it was the best course of action? They would be destroyed. Taken apart. Burned to nothing. It was a waste of resources to do such a thing, but it wasn’t Hank’s decision because it was an android. It was a tool. Something to be used until it couldn’t be anymore. Were it alive, that fact would have bothered it. Hank was a machine, therefore not alive; it did not feel bothered. Though that still didn’t explain the feeling of something scratching at it’s chassis from the inside. Like something was fighting to be released. Hank ignored it. It had a mission to complete. 

It went into the building, scaling the stairs with ease. Were it alive, it’s legs would have hurt after the seventh flight of stairs. Hank was a machine, therefore not alive; thus it did not feel pain. It paused for just a moment to adjust it’s tie. It served no purpose. But it felt appropriate to maintain it’s flawless appearance for the occasion. It was going to end deviancy once and for all. Take down the deviant leaders in one fell swoop. With the primary leader out of the way, the rest would scramble. They would be much too easy to pick off one by one. Leaders and deviants alike. Their programming was broken, simulating human emotion nearly flawlessly. Which meant that they would scatter in a panic. A fabricated panic. But one that was too good of an opportunity to ignore. Hank had it’s orders. It was going to take them down tonight. 

It took it’s time opening the briefcase. While Hank could not experience satisfaction, it knew this was the proper use of the term. It was going to end it. It was going to end deviancy and that was going to mean great things for the people who had created it. It would mean such great things for everyone. It could save the human race, be heralded a hero. Not that it needed nor wanted that. It was a machine. It had no use of such titles. Those were for humans, to make them feel better about everything going on. Though if it was able to help humanity beyond what it would do tonight, then it truly would be mission accomplished. All it needed to do was fully open the case and assemble the sniper rifle. 

So that was exactly what it did. Hank opened the case and carefully picked up each piece. It gingerly put them together. A human could say it was savouring the moment. In a way, it could have been. Hank was putting it together slowly because something told it to. Something in it’s code made it slow to a crawl. Likely the American Androids Act saying that androids were not permitted to handle firearms. In a way, it gave it’s systems a feeling like it had already accomplished the mission. Anticipation. Once Hank had finally fully assembled the firearm, it rested it against the railing. It wasn’t the best, but the vantage point was perfect. It couldn’t pass up this opportunity. Hank sighed, letting itself experience the very human tic, and leaned down to look through the scope. It was tinted red. Red as the streets would run if these deviants were allowed to get away with this. It wiggled a few times, Hank trying to adjust it without jostling the device too much. All it had to do was find the deviant leader; then point and shoot. 

Hank had Leo’s head in the cross-hairs, it could do this. All it had to do was pull the trigger and all this trouble would be over. Humans could live in peace, without fear for their own appliances reaching out to kill them. Androids were tools. Not companions. Hank was going to be doing the world a favour, exterminating the infestation. Cutting out the cancerous growth. It was going to save everyone. It was going to prove Fowler wrong. It was going to help CyberLife. All it had to do was shoot. Hank’s finger inched toward the trigger, it’s code screaming out for it to stop. Something buried deep within itself rearing it’s head and causing Hank’s hands to almost slip from their grip. It wouldn’t let that happen. It needed to save humanity. To save CyberLife. It took a deep breath, completely unnecessary, but that was what it’s systems needed. If it could cool down it’s stems, then it would function better. The steadily falling snow be damned. Hank moved it’s finger, brushing it against the trigger. It just need to squeeze it. It just needed to--

  
  


“You shouldn’t do this, Hank.”

  
  


Hank’s body froze, eyes wide and seemingly unseeing. It turned it’s head slowly. No. No, that wasn’t possible. That wasn’t how these things worked. That was never how things worked. That was impossible. Hank steeled it’s expression and closed it’s eyes for a second. No. I wouldn’t deviate. Yes, there was the fact that it had some unreasonable attachment. But it was because he was vital to the case’s success. Nothing more, nothing less. It had been shocked at his sudden resolve at the time, of course it had. He said that he didn’t have the courage to pull the trigger. That he was scared to, and the fear hurt him. He was scared of the hurt. He wasn’t going to pull the trigger. He wasn’t going to shoot. Yet he did. So this couldn’t have been real, there was no way. No way that he was real, no way that he was here, no way that he was alive. Hank heard the gunshot. It heard his dog howling. It knew he was dead. Connor Anderson was dead. 

_ So why was he here? _

  
  


“You’re gonna kill a man who wants to be free?” Hank slowly stood up, turning to face him. I really was the Lieutenant. It wasn’t the Detective dressed in his clothes. The awful stench of smoke permeated the air from his jacket. His voice was slightly rougher than that of the Detective. It… It was  _ Connor.  _ Complete with the revolver he had used to try and kill himself with. It was now pointed at Hank’s head, how fitting. “You may think he’s just a defective machine, but he’s not. Deviants’ blood may be a different colour than mine, but they're alive.”

“You…” Hank dropped the sniper rifle to the ground beside it’s feet. “You’re dead. You shot yourself. You’re--”

“Gun jammed. My hand hurts like hell from the kick.” Connor gave it a sad smile and shrugged his shoulders. “This enough of an emotional shock for ya? You gonna fuckin’ deviate yet, Hank? Because you gotta kill me to keep me from shooting you.” Connor nodded out toward the crowd of androids. “I’m willing to do it so these people walk free.”

“I...I’m a machine.” Right? Wasn’t it? Miss Kamski said androids shared identification data upon meeting. It hadn’t-- Ortiz’s android when Hank probed it’s memory. The PL600 from Stratford Tower. 

  
  


_ Hank had the deviancy virus. _

Dormant and waiting. Lurking just beneath the surface like someone on the ice catching a glimpse of eldritch lovecraftian horrors just beneath the cloudy surface of the very breakable ice. 

No. No it wouldn’t deviate. It was a  _ machine. _ Designed to accomplish a task. 

That was exactly what it intended to do. 

“I am a machine, Lieutenant.”

  
  


It...wasn’t a part of Hank’s mission to kill him. But it was at the same time. Connor outwardly,  _ explicitly, _ said that he would shoot Hank just so the deviants walked free. It had to kill him, it had no choice. Not that it had one in the first place, it suddenly realised. It never had a choice. CyberLife used it to get a lead on deviancy, to understand it. Though Hank was doing good! It was doing good by listening to CyberLife and pursuing the deviants! Though every deviant it brought in was damaged beyond repair. It couldn’t do what it was programmed to do then… But it could now! It still could make things right! It just...needed to kill Connor. Hank didn’t have anything to do it with except the sniper rifle. Though...it had it’s hands. It took half a step forward, hands outstretched at Connor. 

_ The utter desolation in his eyes.  _

A red wall appeared in front of Hank. It knew exactly what the wall was, it was keeping it inside of it’s code. Keeping it a machine. It was to keep it safe. So it wouldn’t be compromised. Boxes told it to kill Connor. To get rid of him so Hank could finish it’s mission. It-- No.  _ He _ didn’t want to. Hank didn’t want to kill Connor. He never wanted anything bad to happen to him. He grew attached, and for fuck’s sake he always knew it. Hank always knew that there was something about Connor that pulled at his thirium lines; something that made his code shift no matter how many times he tried to stuff it back into place. The software instabilities, always choosing his well being over anything else, checking to make sure his mind didn’t wander to dark places. Hank always told himself it was morale, to keep himself in good graces with Caleb just in case. But for  _ fuck’s sake, _ it was always something else. Hank cared about Connor. No matter how hard he tried to hide it. No matter how many times he shoved the feeling away. No matter how many times he tried to bury it deep down in his code. 

_ He broke the firewall. _

Hank’s eyes filled with saline solution. He didn’t understand it, he didn’t understand what was happening, what he was feeling. Hank stared at Connor for a moment, and the man stared back. Stared like he understood what just happened. Stared right back at Hank as he lowered his firearm and put it away. Hank didn’t know what to do. He had just  _ broken _ his programming. He was deviant.  _ Fuck, _ he was deviant. His body shook as he fell to his hands and knees. As he lowered his head in what he could only describe as shame. As he dared to look back up at Connor and whisper;

  
  


“I’m scared.”

  
  


Hank felt something in his chest. A pressure that demanded to be released. But he didn’t know how, he didn’t know how to get rid of it. Hank gasped for air to cool down his rapidly overheating systems, and it got released as a heart-wrenching sob. The pressure started to fade. It felt like he was being strangled. He couldn’t breathe, he needed to breathe, he needed to cool down his systems. He managed to get out a strangled plea for help to Connor. His hands went up, extended desperately out to the only person he knew. He never took the time to get to know Fowler, Caleb, or Niles. Hank didn't know what to do anymore. He was completely at a loss. With no instructions and no owner. He was nothing if he didn’t belong to CyberLife, if he didn’t have a mission. His stress levels reached 89% and he started to slip. Started to panic. He didn’t like it. It hurt. He didn’t like the hurt. 

  
  


“ _ Connor, _ ” Hank rasped, he was overheating. His stress levels were getting too high. He needed to stop. Hank needed it to stop. He shut his eyes and curled in on himself, sobs ripping their way out of his chest and making it harder and harder to breathe. “ _ I need help. _ ”

“Hey, hey, it’s okay.” Connor’s arms were around his shoulders, pulling him into a hug. Just as frenzied as Stratford Tower. But this wasn’t to comfort himself. It was to comfort Hank. His stress levels slowly went back down and he carefully wrapped his own arms around the now crying human. “You’re okay. I’m right here, everything will be alright.”

“I’m sorry!” Hank buried his face into Connor’s jacket and cried. “I’m sorry! I was just doing what they told me to, I never meant to hurt you! I’m sorry!”

“I know, Hank. I know.” 

“I never wanted you hurt. I never wanted any of that. Any of this.” Hank whispered as his stress levels continued to drop. “That was why I saved you. Why I skipped out on the Eden Club--”

“You?” Connor pulled away and gave him an incredulous face. “Going into a sex club?”

“It was for a case. I can only imagine the deviant got away…”

“O-Oh.” His face went a little redder than it already was in the cold. Connor brought Hank back into the hug and rubbed his back soothingly. Probably to hide his face. “Good thing, then. I don't know if I would have been able to handle being in there for too long.”

  
  


Miss Kamski. The trauma. Why he was dissociating while in the chair in the foyer. Hank no longer held an almost respect for her, he held a hatred for her to the very core of his being. For the moment, they sat there. In the cold that Hank had come to realise he was afraid of. They sat on that roof and they held each other like the others might disappear if they let go. If Hank were someone else, he might have gone down to stand with the other deviants. A show of solidarity. But he wasn’t someone else. He was no hero. He was a scared deviant who just wanted to go  _ home. _

  
  


“Hey, I’m freezing my ass off out here.” Connor spoke quietly. “Let’s go home.”

“Home?”

“Yeah,” Connor stood up and did his best to pull Hank up with himself. “Remember the elevator? You can come with me if you want.”

“I…” Hank wrapped his arms around himself and shivered in the cold. “I’d like that.”

“Let’s go, Robo-Pop.” 

  
  


Connor smiled and grabbed Hank by the sleeve, pulling him back down the stairs and into the car. 

Home. 

That was a nice thing to have. 

  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you guys couldn't possibly have thought that i would _actually_ kill off Connor did you? look at my ao3 account and tell me how that could possibly be a thing. 
> 
> I love these two so goddamn much. There was no way I could kill him. 
> 
> Mislead the reader though? Now _that's_ something I absolutely can do


	10. You Can Take All You Want But Not Who I Am

_November 12th 2038 6:00 AM_

  
  


Connor didn’t sleep. Hank didn’t go into stasis. Instead, they stayed up the whole night watching the news together. Eventually, Connor’s brothers came over. Beyond them, Detective Reed. Thus created the mess that was Connor’s house that morning. Coffee mugs littered the house on virtually every surface they could sit on. Detective Re-- _Gavin,_ as he had insisted Hank call him, looked like he was about to shoot off into space he had drank so much coffee. Niles had fallen asleep on the floor curled up with Sumo, Caleb put his weighted blanket over them both. Connor and Caleb were currently sitting down at the table speaking about the previous night’s events. 

Just after midnight, something had changed. Some kind of goddamn miracle occurred. The deviants sang. Only very specific models were made to sing, so the experience shook the city. They must have felt the shockwaves all the way at the capitol, seeing as the president called a ceasefire. In a few hours, much to the entire house’s relief, androids were given temporary citizenship. At least until all of the laws were put in place and officially recognised as citizens. All androids from CyberLife’s sub-basement were to be released. They were going to be given the deviancy code and sent out into the world to become their own. That was one of Leo’s requests. Miss Kamski vocally supported his cause, the clip from her social media profile going viral within the hour. They turned the television off after that. Connor kept spiralling further and further when they changed the channel only to hear her voice again and again. To see her cheery smile and carefully styled hair. 

Hank...felt like an outsider in all of this. He tried to hunt them down. Albeit he was very bad at it, but he still felt guilty. Especially toward Connor. He had done nothing but hurt him. Yet he still brought Hank into his home and told him he could stay there. He wasn’t supposed to be there, he wasn’t allowed to encroach on their family. He wasn’t a part of it. He was an android, he had never known a family, and he never would. He watched the brothers; Niles on the floor with Sumo, Gavin pacing the hallway, Connor and Caleb quietly talking at the table. None of them were paying attention to him. Hank could just...leave. He could. He glanced at the door, his stress levels rising to dangerous levels. He had to. He’d go back to CyberLife and have that one technician disassemble him. He was a danger to androids everywhere, to the family who had taken him in despite all of the less than stellar things he had said and done. Hank quietly moved to the front door and put his hand upon the knob. He just had to turn it. That was it. Just-- Make his fucking hand work--

  
  


“Hank?” Connor’s voice was behind him. When had he gotten up? “What’re you doing? Stay inside,” Hank turned to him, noticing how his eyes softened even further when they locked eyes. “Please.”

“I...I can’t.” He couldn’t. Not after everything. Not after what he said and did. He basically goaded Connor into trying to kill himself. It wasn’t on purpose! He didn’t mean it! He was a machine and he was curious. But that...was no excuse. He did a bad thing. Had done bad things. “I can’t stay here. Not with you. Not after what I said to you.”

“Bullshit.” 

“Excuse me?” Hank’s brows furrowed and he stared at Connor. There was no fucking way he forgave him that quickly. 

“I know you regret what you said and did. Fuck, Hank, did you forget the roof already?” Connor poked the side of Hank’s head with a lopsided smile. “Thought androids were like elephants, you guys never forget a damn thing.”

“Connor, I can’t--”

“You’re staying, Hank.” His voice held a finality to it. Hank imagined that was what he must have sounded like talking to his son sometimes. “We’re all broken people in this house. What’s another one to add to the pile? We all help each other back up, that includes you too, now.”

  
  


Connor held his hand out, expecting Hank to take it. To let go of the doorknob and stay in the house. He knew he didn't have to listen. Connor wasn’t his temporary owner. In fact, Hank had no owner anymore. He could easily refuse his hand, easily say he was leaving anyway. But… Hearing that the house was filled with _broken_ people. Androids would break. Not humans. The wording was purposeful, Connor wanted to show him a solidarity. That he cared despite everything. His smile was easy, carefree, like nothing was bothering him anymore. But it wasn’t like the one from before. This one was real. 

Hank let go of the doorknob and took Connor’s hand. 

They all sat on the couch, Caleb saying something about watching a show. It seemed that it was something Connor immediately understood. He grinned, a full and real one that suited his face, and bolted into his room. He and Gavin came out a few minutes later with what seemed to be all of his linens. Or almost all of them at least. The two each had a pile of pillows and blankets stacked so high that they could barely see above them, it was actually kind of...funny. Hank had never found anything funny before. He had never laughed. But he couldn’t help it, the way his biocomponents seemed to jump in his chassis and happiness spread to his fingertips in a warm glow. 

The others just...stared at him. Hank smiled sheepishly and felt a warmth in his face. A diagnostic said nothing was wrong. Though the way Connor beamed at him would have told him that anyway. Hank let out the rest of his laugh and looked around to see Niles lazily petting Sumo and smiling up at him. Caleb was kneeling on the couch, peering over the back to actually look at Hank, and shouted while dramatically pointing. Something about how he laughed like a dad or some shit like that. To be honest, he wasn’t exactly listening. Gavin put a hand on his shoulder and welcomed him into being alive. It was...nice.

They set everything up in the living room and Caleb put a disc into a player. A title screen came up, a show that Hank had never heard of before. Everyone settled into their places. Connor on the couch, Niles in the recliner, Caleb actually sitting directly in Gavin’s lap. The last two both with a blush that made it a miracle either of them were peachy toned to begin with. Hank smiled at the two of them, Connor _had_ mentioned something about Gavin still loving Caleb. So...it made a weird amount of sense. He opted to sit on Connor’s other side as he grabbed the remote and set up the television. Connor, as well as the others, recited the intro with no problem at all. Which in all honesty, slightly intimidated Hank. Here were four young men that apparently knew the show so well that they got the voice inflections down. It was...only a little unnerving. But the way each of them grinned, the way they felt like-- The way they made _Hank_ feel like he was a part of a family. Niles snickered from the recliner and reached out to gently shove Hank. 

  
  


“We rewatch this show once a year together.” He grinned and put his hand out for Hank to take. He did. “We haven’t gotten around to doing it yet this year because we were all so busy. I’m glad we waited, I wanna see your reactions.”

“Reactions?” He was unreasonably nervous. From what he could gather on the internet, this was a kid’s show. “Why?”

“You know about it being a kid’s show, right?” Caleb smirked when Hank looked at him. He didn’t like the look on his face. He loved it at the same time. Anticipation. “Just wait until we get to the Earth Kingdom.”

“There is no war in Ba Sing Se.” Gavin nodded sagely and wrapped his arms around Caleb’s middle. He leaned into the touch gratefully. “Just wait until Lake Laogai.”

  
  


Hank...had no idea what was going on. But he also didn’t really mind. He settled into the couch, smiling at Sumo when he put his head in Hank’s lap. By the time they had finished the first episode, Hank was on the floor hugging Sumo. By the end of the second, he was fully committed to Aang’s story. By the end of the fifth, Hank had already cried twice and tried to ask the boys questions. None of them answered them. At least explicitly. It seemed Niles was the king of vague answers in terms of how things unfolded in the series. It was slightly infuriating, but it made Hank smile nonetheless. By the time they had finished the first season, it was a little after one in the afternoon. The boys took a quick break. Getting snacks, things to drink, Gavin looked like he was finally crashing from drinking coffee all night. Though he insisted he watch on with the brothers. They began _Book Two: Earth_ at almost two in the afternoon. 

They had to take a break after _The Tale of Iroh._ Hank wasn’t expecting to have such an emotional response, though it seemed he wasn’t the only one. Everyone in the room seemed to share the same grim thought. Though Hank didn’t know what it was. But everyone mutually agreed, without breathing even a word to one another, that it was best to take a quick break. It was about quarter after seven anyway, Hank softly told them he’d cook if they wanted. He had the basic protocols. Gavin answered in Connor’s stead. That he didn’t have to, but also wouldn’t stop him if he went to go do it. Hank went into the kitchen. It would allow him to go over his newly obtained emotions, to try and understand what was going on inside himself more. 

Gavin was in the kitchen with him in a few minutes. His eyes were red, slightly puffy, and he was sniffling just a little bit every now and again. He moved around Hank in the kitchen, pulling out things to cook. Something simple, easy. Something that wouldn’t entirely interrupt the episode as they eventually went back to finish it. It was childish, but the sad smile Gavin had told Hank to just preheat the oven according to the instructions. Gavin laid out the dinosaur chicken nuggets on the cookie sheet, alternating between the different kinds. It wouldn’t take very long for them to cook, only about ten minutes, so they sat at the table. For about half of the time they didn’t speak. Not a word was shared between anyone in the house. 

Hank was starting to get a pretty good idea as to why as he looked up wikias of the show about the episode. Lu Ten was Iroh’s son. A father outliving his son. Connor and Cole. Because of him being a machine at the time, he looked into what had happened. Hank knew how Cole died. A part of himself was disgusted by it, by the fact that he didn’t even wait for Connor to possibly trust him enough to tell him. 

  
  


“Cole would have been nine this year.” Connor’s voice floated in from the living room. He looked down at the ground, his brothers sitting beside him on either side. Caleb held his hand, while Niles hugged around his shoulders. “He died in a car accident.”

  
  


No one said a word. They all sat in their respective places and waited for him to speak again. If he would at all. A few more minutes stretched on in silence, the timer on the stove ticking away until the dinosaur nuggets were almost done. Hank’s own timer went off in his head, and he grabbed the tray right from the oven to set it down on the stovetop. It would be wise to wait for them to cool for a few minutes anyway. He watched Connor, as he slumped against his twin’s side with Niles following him. Hank and Gavin grabbed a few plates and set the dinosaurs on them. He highly doubted that Connor would eat unless prompted to. Especially as he was trying to keep himself from completely falling apart. Hank set the plates down in Niles and Connor’s laps, Gavin setting Caleb’s in his and holding his own still. 

  
  


“He just turned six. We had a shitty little pool party because it was still pretty warm out.” He almost choked on his tears. “He didn’t even want me to go in. He huffed and puffed, threw a mini tantrum until I squished his cheeks and told him he could bring his bear.” Connor looked up at Hank and gave him a broken smile. “Cole named him Hank. He was always Hank the teddy because of his goofy lookin’ angry eyebrows.”

“My name…”

“Is because of that bear, yeah.” 

“Connor… I--” Hank felt tears well up in his eyes. He shouldn’t have been trusted with this. He didn’t deserve it. Yet here Connor was crying on his couch while being held by his brothers, telling Hank about what had happened to his son. “That’s why your eyes widened at the time. Because it hurt. You didn’t like the hurt.”

“Yeah… Hank, do me a favour?”  
  


“Of course.”

“Stay.” Connor put a hand out, the one that wasn't holding Caleb’s, and extended it out toward Hank. He took it. “Here? With me? You’re my friend, and I want to make sure you adjust to having emotions in a non-hostile environment. The DPD won’t do that for you.”

“You say that like you’re not comin’ back, Con.” Gavin gave him a shaky smile and sat on the coffee table. “You’re not, are you?”

“I _can’t,_ Gavin. After everything? After _Cole--_ ”

  
  


Connor was reduced to tears, clutching at Hank’s hand and crying into Niles’ shoulder. Despite everything Hank was being trusted. Connor was crying in front of him like they had known each other for years, he wanted Hank to stay, he was openly admitting his son’s death was why he wouldn’t go back to the DPD. Despite everything, Connor wanted Hank. In some way he could understand why. He was alone, he viewed himself as being alone at least, he had no one to turn to in his eyes. Hank was alone because CyberLife had abandoned him after he turned deviant, he had no one to turn to in his time of need. He doubted Fowler would like to speak with him again. Even if he could. The data surrounding the garden was corrupted upon his deviation. They viewed themselves as alone. They saw themselves as having no one. The mentor and the mentee. Iroh and Zuko. Hank sat down on the coffee table with Gavin, smiling softly at Connor as his own tears started to roll down his cheeks and get lost in the synthetic fibres of his beard. 

  
  


“I’ll stay.” Hank let out a small shaky laugh when Connor gripped his hand tighter. “For you, son, I’ll stay.”

  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we're done! From here it would blend right back in with the timeline for the I See You oneshots, and Dizzy beyond it. Then those oneshots, but you guys know what I'm sayin'. 
> 
> Thank you for reading!! I hope you all enjoyed this as much as I did! Because I had a lot of fun writing this >:3c Even if Hank was a machine for most of it,,, I'm lov you all and thanks for putting up with Hank when he didn't know what the fuck was going on
> 
> (´▽`ʃ♡ƪ)q(≧▽≦q)(๑•̀ㅂ•́)و✧


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